Proverbs of the Sections
by GreenWallsOfArt
Summary: Part Two of "Masters of the Pages". ONLY READ THIS PART/STORY IF YOU HAVE READ "MASTERS OF THE PAGES". Richard and Chloe have established the location of the Proverbs with the help of their new friends. But an unexpected surprise has left them with only special weapons to continue their quest to right the wrongs in the world of books.
1. A Proverb's Mission

_**Chapter 1**_

The incessant barking coming from Jip's mouth, plus the howling storm outside the tent the group had pitched was more than Richard could bear in a second. He had zipped his sleeping bag shut all the way so that he was in complete darkness, and yet the sounds from outside were as clear as day. Oftentimes Richard had to suppress the urge to scream and yell at Jip until the dog's ears would bleed. But something- something unknown- was stopping him.

Richard didn't know what he was going to do. His very soul was in utter turmoil after what had happened that afternoon; first with Chloe, and then discovering that he, _he_, was the third Proverb, the Proverb of the Books who could summon out the forces of any book. He couldn't believe that any of it had happened because it all happened within the blink of an eye, quicker than anyone, even Chloe, could have imagined.

Just thinking of Chloe sent Richard reeling into a spell of guilt and a whirlwind of emotion swept through him so that he could barely breathe or think. If only he had just thought faster, then maybe Chloe would still be with them. And _why_ on earth did he have to discover this power at the wrong moment? Chloe was in trouble and in the same moment, his power had only made her captors run even faster! Of all the moments in the world, he had only assisted in the kidnapping of his best friend!

For the first time in several years, Richard found himself brewing tears in his eyes. His guilt rocked him to his core, and not even saccharine comforting from Sir Hugo or Jip could help him, no not in a million years. His power was the reason that the second most powerful person in the literary universe was gone. And who knew what treacherous things the kidnappers were doing to her!

"Master, you all right in there!" Jip barked. "You sleeping through that whopper out there?"

"No!" Richard groaned, turning over in his sleeping bag just like a grumpy teenager on a Monday.

"Just looking out for you," Jip said, putting a paw on Richard's body. "I know how hard you must be taking this. Believe me; I'm shocked and dismayed that we failed to protect Chloe. It seems as though my own master has disappeared from existence." His voice dropped to a low, sad tone and there was a thump on the ground, like the dog had just dropped himself down completely.

Richard shook his head, still not coming out. "No, Jip, you don't understand. You and Sir Hugo were all right. It's my fault that Chloe was kidnapped. If I had been looking out for her when my power just came out of nowhere, then she'd be here."

Then Richard felt the sleeping bag slip away, as Jip peeled it away with his teeth. He dropped the fabric when Richard's head was uncovered, and then plopped down beside him.

"You know, at least we narrowed our journey down a little bit," he said. "We have found the third Proverb, now we just have to find our lady friend. Your power may just help us find her. And I think we're going to see some amazing things from you in the next few days, I can tell you that. None of us have seen or heard of the Proverbs in decades, maybe centuries, and you can help us save this world."

"Never heard that before," Richard said sarcastically under his breath.

"I may be a detective's pup, but I know what I want to see," Jip clarified. "With Chloe out of our hands, you might be our only hope."

Richard shook his head and stood up. "You don't get it do you, Jip?" he asked, on the brink of an outburst. "We can't put this whole thing on my shoulders. This adventure was- _is_- all about me and Chloe, saving this world together. Apparently, I'm only the Proverb of the Books-" he said those words like they were _basketball team water boy _"-and am not nearly as powerful as Chloe. Besides, the Proverb of the Books is the Imagination's guardian. It's not up to me to just sit here and wait for her to be let go. That would take years with their magic. We'd be lucky if Chloe could get out by herself."

Jip nodded his head. "'Tis very true, very true," he agreed. "But, my boy, how are we- _you_- going to save her?"

Richard took a deep breath. He now realized what he was getting himself into, and although he was frightened of his decision, he knew that he would hate himself for doing otherwise.

"I'm going to go out and find her. I'll use my new power to help me find her."

Sir Hugo suddenly turned around from watching the storm outside. "Boy, what are you saying?" he asked, looking at Richard like he was a lunatic. "This world is too vast and unpredictable for an inexperienced warrior such as yourself to be running into alone. You would have to hope that your power will never fail you- otherwise would mean certain death!"

Richard couldn't quite explain why, but going out alone to save Chloe was more than just a crazy adventure. It was a mission, a goal, an impassable wall! Without Chloe, the literary world would fall apart with the despair the Pagemaster would befall, and Richard would live with the guilt for a long, long time, maybe for life. The absence would upset many, and all that she had met. And Richard knew well what it would do to this world, his world, and to he himself. She was a good part of his life now, and even he would feel a deep void without her.

Even so, despite the dangers that would lie on the road ahead, Richard found a lingering confidence that he could do it. It wasn't that he wanted to; it was that he _had_ to.

"Are you so confident as to do this?" Sir Hugo asked skeptically.

Richard folded his arms and looked Sir Hugo right in the eye. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Sir Hugo clearly was unsure of what to answer, and he found himself looking down at Jip, who let out a pleading bark. Then Sir Hugo sighed deeply, and reluctantly turned his gaze back to Richard, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Truly, lad, you have fought some good battles in your time," he said, semi-proudly. "But you must also remember that lives are on the line if you fail in your mission. As I told you, this is a vast and unpredictable world, and even the most skilled of sorcerers and warriors can be led astray. Use your ability to the very greatest capacity, and always trust yourself. You must seize the courage!"

"I swear it!" Richard promised, nodding his head and raising his right hand to his oath.

Sir Hugo sighed, as if he were a father saying goodbye to a college-bound son, and taking in another deep breath, suddenly reached his hands around Richard and gave him a hug.

Surprised, Richard returned the hug and smiled.

Richard and Sir Hugo let go, and they both sat down, Jip lying down next to Richard.

"Okay," Richard murmured.

And finally, as he lay down to rest, the storm outside seemed to disintegrate and flee, although far off in the distance, there was still the faint sound of thunder, a sound that echoed in Richard's sleepy ears. 


	2. Devils in the Castle

_**Chapter 2**_

Chloe lay unconscious somewhere, somewhere far away from her friends or any sign of life. On her back, her bow had slid from her quiver, and her arrows were scattered in different directions across the dirty ground. Just like her arrows, her hair and dress were scratched and torn, splattered on the rotting grass, somewhat of a mark of light and beauty to illuminate the darkness. Twilight had gone, and the last few rays of cheery sun gone with the battles she had fought.

In the dark mist just outside the grim castle, a stale wind blew across the porch, stripping away some croaky dead leaves to reveal a sign on the creaky door. But it was a dusty sign so it only said, "Castle".

The door creaked open, and there stood a tall man clad all in black against the light from inside the castle, like a wicked shadow. His outfit was devoid of any color, and his eyes seemed to glow with a red-hot ecstasy at the sight of the beautiful warrior unconscious outside his door. He laid eyes on her fire hair, withering like Medusa's in the breeze, and her glowing silver gown, tarred from the toil she suffered in battle. Despite her condition, the man felt he was looking at an angel. But her scent- the scent of that beautiful red something- made her even more bewitching.

"What is this?" the man asked, his voice flowing through his lips in a dark, smooth accent. "A woman? My castle?" Slowly, the hard, cruel look in his eyes softened to a subtle wickedness, and the claw-like fingers rose to form an open claw, as if it was clenching around a ripe apple. But his eyes glowed with a fiery power, and he fixed them upon the princess-like maiden unconscious at his door.

"Come here, my love," he intoned smoothly, a concentrated force edging on his blood-red lips.

At that instant, Chloe stood up, her arms still slumped at her side. She began to trudge towards the castle, slowly becoming a sleepy walk that moved with mechanical stealth. Her eyes were open now, and she had a wild look in her eyes, like an animal; very much like the gaze of the man as he pulled her in with his hypnotic power. And in those very eyes, the desire pumping behind them was enough that his undead heart could begin to awaken again. That tiny little heart in the maiden was beating steadily, the sound ringing like thunder. His claws tensed tighter with her every step- she was coming closer…

Chloe was laid on top of a bed, her arms sprawled over the pillows and her legs turned in and out of the pale sheets. Her breathing was slow and steady, and the room was quiet and still, but she was not far from danger.

The tall man stood over her bed, leaning over Chloe and reaching for her with a tense grip waiting on his hands. His eyes were fixed on her neck, lying exposed beneath her turned head of tiger-lily hair. They were now blazing with a demonic red that seemed to have transformed him into an undead version of the devil.

"My child, my beautiful child," he whispered deeply, "at last…you are here."

Slowly, Chloe began to stir. Her eyes twitched for a moment before they opened, and she moaned silently as she stretched her arms, tousling the sheets. She blinked a few times before she laid eyes on the tall man in black leaning over her, with his red eyes shimmering in the dim moonlight raining down from the high window across from the bed.

"Who are you?" she asked in a whisper that hid a small fright. Her heart sped up, and the twinkle in the man's eyes grew, like a few large stars twinkling together in harmony. Far from it.

The man stood still, his face just inches from hers, the eyes still open and blazing demonic red. He raised himself up from her, and as he did, Chloe studied him with cautious eyes. This man seemed awfully familiar to her, like she had seen him in a dream, or maybe in a movie or a book somewhere. His face was subtle and soft as he met her eyes, but yet fixed and cruel. The skin was snow-white and seemed fluorescent, even in the darkness. And those eyes- those _eyes_- the color of blood on a deathly wound. When Chloe looked deep into the horrific color, she suddenly found some strength again and backed a few inches on the bed, stumbling when her leg caught on her long sleeve.

"Count Dracula," Chloe whispered, her fear beginning to surface in her voice.

"Lady Chloe," the Count whispered in a similar tone, except with lust and wanting. "We meet, at last. I have waited for many a century for you to come…to me. And now, we must make haste. Your blood makes music, and I should like to hear it."

Chloe shook her head, clutching the covers of the bed around her. "No. I don't want you to. Please, don't." By this time, Chloe was more than frightened, she was getting the feeling that unless something happened mysteriously by magic, or that Richard would come charging through the door for her, she was doomed. She was face-to-face with the most terrifying and evil villain in horror fiction, and without some feat of magic or luck, it seemed impossible to survive.

"Pleading will not do you good, my lady," the Count said. He then knelt down and placed his hand on Chloe's arm. She shuddered loudly- the Count's skin was winter-cold, and seemed to burn through her own. His grip on her arm felt like a clamp that had been melted there and would never let go of her, and Chloe could feel her arm go numb.

Then, the Count placed his other hand on Chloe's cheek, and once again she shuddered. Chloe was preparing to scream so someone outside the castle might hear her, but the Count's cold grip dashed all thoughts from her mind except that it was just the two of them there. Gently, the Count turned her to face him and stroked her cheek with his thumb, his other hand reaching from her shoulder down towards her chest, where he grazed the fabric of her dress, and then the tender skin beneath it. He didn't squeeze it, but merely stood like a statue, as though waiting for Chloe to make a move. When she didn't, the Count made a grab for her shoulder, pulling her so that her breasts were squished against his chest, her body having no space between them at all. She groaned in shock, waiting while the Count took one swipe of his talon into his robe. The fabric peeled away and the skin underneath began to turn red. Chloe smelled the rusty scene of blood beneath her nostrils and her heart went into overdrive when she realized what was finally happening.

"Drink," the Count whispered in a raspy, yet calm voice. And not too later afterwards, for no explicable reason, she began to wish that the Count would kiss her with those blood-red lips and keep her there, her eyes closing dreamily to await his pure bite.

Instantly Chloe shook her head. _No_, she yelled to herself inside her mind. _You shall not fall under his spell. That will destroy the Pagemaster, Richard…oh, Richard. Richard, please, hurry. I'm as close to death as I can come, and I need you!_ Chloe shut her eyes tighter and tried to keep her mind on Richard, so as not to push herself deeper into the spell the Count was casting on her.

"You have a strong will, my lady," the Count whispered. "I can feel you…your heart beats with a will as powerful as the Pagemaster himself. It is too late for him, or his soldiers, to save you. You are mine…for all eternity. Come. Join me forever as my partner, and later on, my helper." Slowly, the Count's hand moved down from Chloe's cheek, and brushed her neck with a lingering, pleasurable power as he stopped with his hand over her heart. His eyes glowed brighter red and suddenly, his cold touch turned warm.

While Chloe couldn't deny that the Count's pull was strong as a storm, she refused to fall any closer to him than she already had.

In that instant, Chloe felt a sharp pain on her neck, and she was struck with panic as she came to terms with what the Count was doing to her. Her mind raced; she wanted to do something or make something happen, anything to get her out of this before she met the same fate as the Count's other victims- becoming a vampire herself. But what could she do? She was no witch or magician, so it wasn't like she could make anything happen by magic.

Or could she? Chloe remembered how she had imagined those shadows into oblivion, and they had gone away altogether just by the power of her will. They were in the literary world, and in a world like this, it was possible for anything to come alive.

Chloe searched her mind once more for something that might distract Dracula while she got away, and then after making a decision, opened her hand out at the floor beside the bed, and pictured a million grains of salt clacking on the floor. Out of thin air, a million salt crystals appeared on the floor and they made a shushing sound as they scattered.

At that instant, Chloe pushed the Count off her as hard as she could, and dashed for the door, as fast as she could go. For good measure, she left a trail of salt crystals behind her, courtesy of her imagination, and fortunately, she found that the Count was not following her. And good riddance, she thought.

Her heart threatening to explode through her skin, Chloe ran out of the castle, breathing quickly and sharply. She was going so fast she was unaware of the fact that she had left her bow and arrows behind in the bedroom. And even if she did remember, she wouldn't have cared. The most dangerous villain of all horror fiction had almost made her one of _them_! All that mattered now was just getting out of this place alive.

Chloe barely made it to the edge of the castle grounds when she was met with a loud, inconceivable screeching in her ears. It was a cross between an inhuman scream and that of an animal- a bat, most likely. Her heart hammered painfully when she thought of what could have made that sound.

Fearfully, Chloe turned around, and noticed the silhouettes of three women, all very faint, but their identities were recognizable to Chloe, even in the dim moonlight.

"Come, sister," one of the women murmured. "You are hungry. We are as well."

"I don't pretend to know what you're saying," Chloe said.

"Of course you don't," another woman said, her voice so musical and sweet that Chloe found her guard coming off again. "Come to us. Leave this place behind and come to us, sister." The women reached out their hands to Chloe, sweetly beckoning her to them like they were her aunts. But Chloe knew better. To survive these devilish women- Dracula's three vampire brides- she would have to blast them with her power. It would be nasty, but she would be able to continue on her way out of the place.

Closing her eyes, Chloe plugged her nose and thought with all her might. The dank air around the castle grounds instantly became pungent with the smell of something thick and spicy. Chloe, of course, didn't mind the smell once she took a few sniffs, but the three women reacted completely differently.

The women's eyes bulged out so that they might have fallen right from their white faces. Their eyes went red, and steam began to rise from their skin when a thick, yellow-beige vapor rose around them.

"Garlic!" one woman screeched, her voice sounding like a snarling and rabid animal.

"Scraggly little wench!" another said. With eyes red as the devil, the same woman lunged for Chloe, but she blasted her with another cloud of garlic vapor, turning the air yellow around them.

While the three women's eyes turned bloodshot, and their skin burned, Chloe turned on her heel and shot for the trees outside the grounds. She couldn't hear the women screeching much anymore as she ran and for the first time, her heart felt a slow beating, which relaxed her. Tucking her cape around her, she tried to breathe and forget where she was. Despite her recent bravery, she couldn't find much comfort in where she was.

Her fright getting the best of her, Chloe imagined that she was back in the rotunda with her friends. But when she finally had the image clear in her mind, she felt a jolt in her stomach and a headache creep its way into her brain. Chloe put her hands to her temple in response to the pain, wincing.

All the worse, was that she was not facing the cliffs and forests of the sunny rotunda.

Frustrated, Chloe grunted when she remembered what limits her ability had now that she wasn't in the rotunda. The natural forces couldn't be bent as well, and she could now only make things appear. She couldn't create or destroy life out of thin air, nor could she transport herself anywhere.

_Could be worse though_, she thought in an attempt to console herself. _I could be_ _dangling from a tree about to be fed to the wolves_.

But one thing was for sure. It was going to be a long day if she couldn't make it out of the horror section.

A long and difficult journey…


	3. Lost

_**Chapter 3**_

It was annoying to Richard, really. Every time that he stepped down to the ground, he came upon a living flower that was sprouting a book. The flower would writhe and screech until Richard cut it in half with his sword, silencing the bratty thing forever.

Ahead of him, Richard saw nothing but open sky, grassy plains, and a just-as-plain long journey. All of a sudden, half of him was asking, "Why did I even say that I would take this journey, when clearly I don't even know where I'm supposed to go?" But just like those snappy flowers, he was getting annoyed and cranky and tired, wishing he could just return to Sir Hugo and Jip.

Richard then stopped, and plopped down on a rock, straightening his cape which was now damp with the sweat that drenched the back of his shirt. He never expected the rotunda to be so hot; if he didn't know better, he'd have thought that he was in the adventure section, where the beaches and surrounding areas were always hot. Of course, he had played baseball in weather this hot, but wearing his cape and thick boots was unbearable compared to the thin socks and jersey he wore for games. Sighing, Richard put his brain to work, thinking of different clothes he could wear from one, specific story. Finally, all that he could come up with was _The Emperor's New Clothes, peasant clothes. _

His reasoning was that downplaying the wardrobe would make no one suspect that he was a Proverb. Not that Richard wanted people to believe he was a weak-kneed peasant; he just didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. This trip had to move along quickly, because as far as Sir Hugo was concerned, the war between the heroes and villains would soon come to a head, and the villains could more easily use Chloe for ransom or bait for the Pagemaster's growing army. By now, it was certain that the villains knew what Chloe's power could get them, and Richard didn't need to think twice to figure what those things could be. What also made Richard nervous was which villains were holding Chloe hostage. Judging from the powers the attackers had, that villain had to be powerful, and a magical one at that. Unfortunately, Richard couldn't bring himself to think of who that villain was- and good thing too, he thought. His focus was just on figuring out where Chloe might be, and using his power to figure it out.

All this time Richard had wrapped his worried, sleepless brain around things he could conjure to help him find Chloe. It was not the easiest thing he ever did, and it didn't help him to remember that the clock was ticking and Chloe desperately needed him.

Sighing deeply again, Richard leaned his cheek against his cupped palm. He just was not sure where to go next, and it certainly wasn't like he could just turn around and go back to Sir Hugo and Jip. If he returned, they'd be sorely disappointed and they'd hate him for not even trying. Sir Hugo had warned him though…

Suddenly, a wave of thoughts hit Richard like a tsunami. Images of the attackers' magical powers came to mind, and he knew instantly what he could do. He thought back to what Sir Hugo had told Chloe about the sections, running them through his mind one more time. "The adventure section is up north. The horror section is west, and the fantasy section, the largest one, is in the south and east…"

All right, so now all he had to do was travel to the southeast and then scout out Chloe from there. Excited that he now had some direction to his travel, Richard's brain instantly woke up and he could think better about which stories had a compass in it.

Finally, Richard looked at his hand and thought, _Treasure Island, compass_. A bent, rusty compass appeared in his hand, but Richard was excited enough that he now knew where he had to go, that he never really noticed what shape it was in.

Holding it in the air, Richard read the dial. The black handle that was supposed to point took its time, but it was finally able to point off in some direction. Richard was happy to see that the compass was working, so he didn't waste any time making a move towards the southeast, where he would make off for the fantasy section- to where Chloe was sure to be…


	4. Friend and Foes

_**Chapter 4**_

Chloe had never been more thankful for anything in all her life. If she didn't have her power, she suspected that she'd be dead; more like _undead_, she corrected herself.

Even as Chloe walked through the spooky woods with her cape fastened tight around her neck and her hood billowing low over her face, her heart was pounding like a bass drum so hard that she felt her pulse in her brain. It reminded her of the days when she was sick with a cold and when her nose was stuffed, she could feel the pulse of her heart reverberating through her skull like a dank bell. This was nearly the precise feeling she had, and she didn't think it was all too pleasant.

Chloe was, at the very least, glad to have some protection from the elements inside her warm cape. The velvet was a reminder that she would stay safe and that her power would not fail her; especially now, when danger was all around her no matter where she was. That was the way the horror section worked for her- horror and danger were both kept hidden inside the trees, the houses and buildings, and even under the ground she walked on. It didn't help either that, every now and then, the musty wind would gather around her feet and chill her like a winter breeze. Every shiver shook her greatly, and was a terrible discomfort when she was feeling frightened enough.

Taking an immense breath, Chloe glanced behind her at the opening to the woods. To her relief, she couldn't even see it anymore, much less a way back to the castle. It would be hard enough for the vampire brides to come back for her, and just as well, she hoped that Dracula would not come after her either. As much as she loved his story, she hated the devious count like she hated bullies. For good measure, Chloe envisioned the castle encased in a vapor of yellow-beige. She flashed her hands out towards the castle, and her imagination flew out her fingers, the yellow-beige fog rolling around the gates and spires. The fog was so pungent that now, not even Chloe could stand the smell of garlic. Pleased with herself, she walked further into the woods, closing herself in a tiny cloud of rosy-smelling air to keep from the awful garlicky smell.

Nearby, Chloe suddenly heard a low, scratchy cough. She stood very still, preparing to protect herself in case the invisible being was an enemy. It was more than likely, she reasoned, that some villain could be stalking her, and she was ready to kill if need be. But Chloe was shocked to see that, instead of a villainous person bearing a weapon, a lean black cat was coming out of the trees. Its tail was curling into its body, and it opened its mouth to let loose a loud sneeze. When it did, its fangs gleamed in the gloomy darkness, and despite her readiness, Chloe was instantaneously nervous. In this world, she wasn't sure who she could trust.

"Kitty?" she mustered.

The cat looked up from recovering from the sneeze with its large eyes, and pricked its ears. "Kitty?" a voice from the cat suddenly said. "That's not my name. I don't have one."

Chloe gasped in a whisper of breath, and stood still where she was. "Um…sorry. I didn't know that you would be coming out. I just…I just didn't know what to call you."

"Clearly," the cat said, arching its body and then sitting down to lick its paws. When it was finished, it looked back up at Chloe with curiosity in its eyes. "As I said, I don't have a name. Cats don't need them. Only humans need names to distinguish one from the other. We're all the same, and that is the way we prefer it."

Chloe recognized that speech. "The Cat…from _Coraline_."

"Right you are- a first for you," the cat said. "Then I think you'll recognize that I like to come and go as I please myself. These woods are too dank for a creature like me to stay for long." The cat turned on its heel and began to stalk away.

"Whoa, wait up a minute," Chloe said. "Can't you help me get out of these woods? As long as you don't point me back to the castle that would be extremely helpful now."

The cat stopped and looked back at Chloe. "A way out?" he asked. "There are many ways out of here. You just walk in any direction, and you'll just keep walking and walking until you come out. It's that simple."

"Not exactly," Chloe said. "There has to be a path, or a landmark or something that points the way to someplace _other _than the woods."

"Clearly you're new in this place," the cat said snidely. "This place has no paths. It's as big and ever-changing as the universe itself. My mind's eye could span maybe, a half of it. Your mind is barely big enough to fit into a speck of dust, so you couldn't possibly imagine that."

Chloe stood upright with angry surprise. "What are you saying?" she said sharply. "That I'm stupid?"

"Anyone would know that a place inhabited by fictional people and such would not have direct paths or predictability. The sections have permanent location and direction. But within each one, you never know what you'll come across."

Chloe shook her head, frustrated. "All right, fine, kitty-cat. If you won't tell me where to go, I'll just go my own way, you'll go yours, and I'll take this on myself." She began to walk away when the cat started to catch up to her. It stopped when it noticed that Chloe would not give it a sideways glance.

"Excuse me," the cat said. "I do not mean to make you angry. I'm only giving you the truth about this place. And in any case, in a place like this, what on earth are you doing wandering here alone?"

"I was kidnapped," Chloe explained. "Count Dracula and his brides just tried to make me one of them. It was a narrow escape, and anyway, it's not like I have relatives I can call up in the horror section. I'm just trying to get out of here and find my friends- in the rotunda, to be exact."

The cat's eyes went wide and then he grinned. "Very good, so I see you have some direction in your adventure. Tell me. What kind of friends are you looking for?"

Chloe then proceeded to tell all about Richard, Sir Hugo, and Jip, and their adventures in the jungle, and with the fairies.

The cat bowed its head respectfully, if only for a second. "You met the Pagemaster? I certainly hope you kept your wits together. Being in his very presence, to some of us, is something we can only dream of."

"He's my friend," Chloe replied. "He's counting on me and Richard to lead his army to war."

"Why such two small ones leading a war?" the cat asked. "You look like you couldn't lift a sword three inches above your shoulders."

"You don't, huh?" Chloe challenged. "Take this, and try it for size. I can not only lift a sword, but when I'm inside the rotunda, I can create life and destroy it out of thin air. While I'm in any other ordinary section, I can create only objects and any physical matter…using my imagination."

The cat looked skeptical, so Chloe shut her eyes. A second later, in a burst of sparkling balls and a pop, a golden cat basket with red velvet upholstery sparkled before them. The cat meowed and stopped dead in its tracks when it spotted the gilded basket.

"What in the…?"

"Think I'm kidding you now?"

The cat just stared at the basket. "I haven't seen magic like this since _she _created the Other world."

"She? Oh, the Other Mother?"

The cat nodded his furry black head. Turning around, he bowed his head low and purred softly. "Good to be meeting you," he said. "This is only something that we can dream of here, and…something tells me the Other Mother would like to challenge you in a battle of wits one day."

Chloe shook her head. "No thank you."

"Oh, I think I'm the only one of my story around here," the cat reassured her. "Because _she _can't stand competition here. You are a Proverb. And a Proverb never loses a battle, I'm sure." He said this last part sort of sarcastically.

Chloe rolled her eyes. The cat still didn't seem to believe her. "You don't understand, do you?" she asked. "I'm the Proverb of the _Imagination_! I'm supposed to be able to conquer anything as long as the gears are still turning."

"Sorceresses like you do have power, but the Other Mother isn't the only possible danger here," the cat said in a low voice. "There are things around here I'm sure even _you _couldn't imagine."

"What makes you say that?" Chloe was actually starting to get gooseflesh from the way the cat talked to her.

"No one around here can resist a pretty little girl walking around alone," the cat explained. "Your power doesn't show itself, and so most will think you're only a helpless girl. So, I hope you realize what you are setting yourself up for."

"And I do."

"So, you do," the cat murmured sarcastically. "Nonetheless, I'd watch your back if I were you. Even when up against the most powerful of sorcerers, one can still wield great power and brains. I've seen tiny girls trick witches beyond repair, and believe me, the outcomes are never pretty for the superior forces."

Chloe nodded. "Yes, well, do you still think you can stay with me? You know, as company?" She was afraid of what the cat might say, because judging from its sarcastic nature, well, she couldn't deny the possibility of the cat not liking her.

The cat answered by leaping in front of Chloe, and purring long and audibly. It grinned with its large eyes up at her.

"Good kitty," Chloe said.

With the cat leading her, Chloe wrapped her cloak tighter and prepared to walk deeper into the woods. Even with the cat at her side, she still couldn't help but feel tense. That was why she kept her mind open in case of an attack. Her imagination would be vital to both her, and the cat's, survival.

"Now, do you really think that you'll reach your friends before the villains gather?" the cat wondered aloud. "The sections cross such a vast space that it'll be a miracle for you to make it to the end before the end of this week."

A low, frightening voice broke the silence, and both Chloe and the cat jumped, both gasping loudly. Nervously, they listened through the trees and heard two men talking. Their voices were low and gruff, monster-like.

"The heroes- they're gathering together."

"Yes, but have you noticed we're doing the same?"

"The word's been spreading." The voice paused for several moments before going on. "The Proverbs has been found. The Imagination and the Books are on the loose, and they're gathering the other heroes for their army."

"They're here? But, I thought the Proverbs were lost to the pages of time."

"That's what we all thought. Until they miraculously appeared in the rotunda and revealed their powers. But then, Count Dracula found the Proverb of the Imagination wandering around after she had been taken prisoner by the warlocks, and he has her in his hands."

"He doesn't!"

"Oh, yes. He's planning to use her, for reasons I do not know yet, but when he's finished with her, he'll dispose of her in ways that no one, not even _she_, can imagine."

Chloe looked away, and finally, after several moments of silence, gave her answer.

"I hope. Alive."


	5. Falling In The Rye

_**Chapter 5**_

At this point in time, the only thing Richard thought of was some of Sir Hugo's advice- "when you reach the end of a section, you will know". He was waiting impatiently for that feeling to come, because, as far as he knew, he had been walking a hundred miles and the rotunda still stretched on.

He glanced at his compass. It still pointed north, leading him in the direction he planned to go. All around, Richard heard the sounds of birds calling, a rushing river nearby, and the trees rustling under the influence of a crisp breeze. All in all, a comforting, normal atmosphere, but Richard never paid that mind. It was all occupied by his desperation to exit the rotunda and finally find the fantasy section.

Richard had, only recently, nearly killed himself climbing a great hill, from which at the top, he got a similar view to what he had seen earlier. And from there, his eyes spotted something that he hadn't even thought to look for.

The glowing green exit sign.

Even against the blazing blue sky, the sign stayed as visible as it did at night, cradled inside a tiny cluster of puffy white clouds. It stared back at Richard, seeming to gloat, laughing at him. Six years ago, that sign had been one of direction, of hope. But, now, Richard only wanted to spit at it. It taunted him with the tempting idea of leaving the library and going back to a normal routine every day; as if that was even likely when you were expected to lead a war that you might not live to see such a sign again.

Shaking his head, and resisting the urge to yell out at the exit sign, Richard started down the hill, taking one step at a time through the long blades, which wavered in a gentle valley breeze. The smell the grass gave off suddenly reminded Richard of the smell that came after his dad mowed the front and back lawns of their house. It was a comforting smell, and for a fraction of a second, Richard felt at peace during this journey. It briefly brought him back to life back home- lounging in the backyard with his dad after Saturday chores, chowing down on pizza with his friends after a good baseball game, and of the lazy summer days he was supposed to have before Chloe entered his world. Although, remembering such things put a heavy weight on his heart, and it took loads of willpower to not think about them.

Chloe was his first and only priority, and Richard intended to keep it that way as long as he was still inside the library!

At the bottom of the hill, Richard pushed through some dense bushes, poking himself with the thin branches, but remaining wholly unscathed. And like before, when he was still joined by his friends in the jungle, he found himself on the outside of a woodsy forest. The calling of birds and the gentle mixture of other animals mingled in the air, along with the familiar babble of a river.

Richard halted his step, suddenly feeling like at any moment, another Shere Khan would surprise him with a growl and then chop him into tiny pieces with his teeth. But when he was finally able to recognize the gentle chirp of a nearby sparrow, did he move forward into the forest. The earth moved gently with his feet when he stepped onto it, softly crunching under his shoe. He jumped, however, when a chipmunk scurried out from the ground underneath him, but he kept moving when the little creature hurried away into the woods.

For good measure still, Richard kept his hand on the handle of his sword, feeling a tiny surge of strength and certainty flow through him. That feeling brought forth the not too distant memory of when he had fought the dragon in the fantasy section, and saved his friends, earning him some well-deserved courage to keep for many more years. Of course, he froze when he thought of the same dragon perhaps confronting Chloe, all alone and without protection. She _was _the Proverb of the Imagination, but that didn't mean she still didn't need her guardian close by. The speed increased in Richard's step when he remembered that simple fact.

Even closer now, was the sound of the river, but the farther Richard walked, the lesser the sound was. In fact, there was another, even greater sound overcoming it. It was the low, but sharp, hum of several voices, like the sound of a cheering crowd from a distance.

Only the voices didn't quite sound like cheering. It was something completely the opposite…like…

…screaming.

Richard quickly broke into a speed-walk when he recognized the sound. And the closer he got, the more he could point out the source of the screaming. The voices were high and low altogether, like the cries of a whole bunch of young children.

And, why was there the smell of rye in the air?

Following the sounds, Richard finally came out of the forest, and to the rushing river that separated the forest from a vast field made entirely of strands of rye. The rye bent in beautiful waves in the wind, moving underneath the crisp clouds casting tiny shadows over the field. The field was growing all the way until the sky met the ground, but on the horizon, Richard could spot a great mass of something moving with the rye. The voices accompanied it, and with the loudness of them now, there was no denying where Richard was going next.

The rye field was much too big to cross on foot, so Richard immediately put his mind to work thinking of something to get there faster. Whatever was happening on the other end of the field could be something terrible, and Richard was not about to risk something with that great a chance of danger to happen.

Finally, he extended his hands and was about to call out his choice of travel when, suddenly, something sharp and tight grabbed him by his hands. A great rush shoving all throughout him, Richard let out a loud yell as he was carried higher and higher into the sky over the rye field. He kicked his legs and yelled louder in panic as the great bird that had picked him up carried him over the field and towards the looming horizon.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Richard shouted.

The great bird, a huge eagle with enormous brown wings, just cawed loudly, the sound carrying out over the field and into the distance. Richard was greatly terrified of this creature, but he simultaneously felt excitement in the fact that he was being carried towards the mysterious crowd of screaming children. Strange, but helpful.

At last, Richard looked down again, and the great mass of children drew closer and closer, moving with much more fluidity and swiftness. It was strange. Thousands of children were rushing through the rye field, screaming and crying out as they approached the edge of a great cliff.

A cliff?

Richard yelped loudly again when he noticed the children coming towards the edge, where, all alone, a teenage boy about the same age as Richard stood, his arms spread out wide amidst the tall, bending strands of rye. He made no audible sound, which surprised Richard when the boy was trying to stop all those children from falling over the cliff singlehandedly.

Reacting quickly, Richard jerked his hands violently in the eagle's talons, finally managing to free one of them in time to punch the eagle's belly. With an angry caw, the eagle dropped Richard's hands, and instantly his heart forged into his throat. He was falling!

Flinging his hand in front of him, he shouted out, "_The Princess and the Pea, _lots of featherbeds!" And as quickly as he had moved his hand, a pile of snow-white clean featherbeds popped up one by one, reaching Richard until they had multiplied enough to catch him in the sky! He blew the air from his lungs when he landed and his hands hurt from the eagle's talons, but he was unharmed.

Richard looked down from his place on the featherbeds, amazed, as the children finally started to tumble over the edge of the cliff, the teenage boy failing endlessly in trying to catch them in the rye field.

"The catcher…in the rye," Richard breathed, never taking his hypnotized gaze off of the boy, who was silent in his impossible task while the children cried out in their little voices as they fell over the cliff.

Richard was so caught up in watching this strange sight, that he barely noticed the slight tipping of the mattresses. He watched though, as the mattresses tipped closer and closer to the waves of children.

"Whoa!"

Richard cried out again as the mattresses fell forward onto the masses below him, whirling himself around to keep from making nasty contact with the ground, forgetting to think of something to break his fall again!

The air rushed past him as he fell, hearing the strangled yelps of the children as the giant pile of mattresses fell on top of them. But suddenly, that didn't matter to Richard, as he was falling…again, this time to the ground miles below him.

On the other hand, Richard attempted at one last ditch effort to save himself. He opened his mouth and tossed his open palm to the air before him…


	6. The Pit

_**Chapter 6**_

Opening its large, mysterious eyes, the cat stood up from its sleepy position and turned its gaze to Chloe next to it. Her many locks of strawberry hair were scattered around the ground near her, her chest gently rising and falling with steady breathing.

"Good time to rise and shine," the cat said gently, pawing at Chloe's shoulder. "That is, if not much sun around here counts as shine," it muttered to itself.

With a groggy hum, Chloe stirred, rolling over onto her stomach to bring herself to her feet. She rolled onto her cloak, catching it on the dirty ground as she finally rose from her slumber.

"What? What is it?" she wanted to know, rubbing her eyes.

"You may be like royalty to the Pagemaster," the cat stated, "but that doesn't mean you can't get early wake-up calls like every other normal person."

"I know how that feels," Chloe muttered, remembering the day they left on their journey through the rotunda.

The cat shook its head, chuckling briefly. "If you want to get to your friends fast enough, you'll have to make sacrifices to do so," it said, puffing out its chest.

"Oh, I will," Chloe said, starting to follow the cat. "What I won't make sacrifices for, is when you're being sarcastic with me. You're a good cat, but you _can_ have a big mouth." She paused to imagine some breakfast into her open hand, which she gradually started to munch on.

"That's what they all say," the cat said. "I am a cat after all, and have far superior senses than most other creatures- humans in particular. And believe me it has done people good to listen to me."

Chloe sneered playfully at the cat. "Oh. All right. If you just happen to sense everything so well, then why don't you tell me the way out so that I can be on my way?"

"There, I cannot help you," said the cat. "I have senses, but I'm not a map. I'll only know where to tell you to go once I recognize what has come. Shall you be able to live with that for some time?"

Chloe sighed heavily. She didn't see where she would get by arguing endlessly with the cat. It did have a point- they wouldn't know what they would come across until such things actually came. She shivered at the thought of what horrific things were hiding in this section, but what alternative did she have other than the cat's help?

"Yes, I suppose so," Chloe answered.

"Very good." The cat grinned at her, purring just a little.

Chloe grinned, if somewhat sheepishly, back at the cat. Turning her gaze to the little scraps of her breakfast still lying in her hand, she decided that perhaps some breakfast would also do some good for her new guide.

In less than a second, she conjured up some catnip for the cat, which she handed down to it as they slowed their walk. The cat was quick to be gracious, and as delicately as its purr, the cat dipped its head into the floating bowl and ate.

"Good kitty," Chloe whispered. She looked away from the cat then, and into the woods in front of her.

"That's strange."

"What is it now?" asked the cat.

"That." Chloe pointed ahead into the woods. The trees and surrounding fog had been dark grey before. But now they were starting to merge together in a deep, ominous blackness.

"What's…in there?" Chloe had been hesitant to ask, and now she was regretting asking.

"_I _cannot say what sort of trap we're walking into," the cat answered, a little snidely. "But the chances of there being monsters or rats in there are…high, to say the least."

"Well, I don't see any other direction worth going besides forward, so…" Chloe looked at her hand, and with a blink of her eyes, a tall candlestick materialized in her clenched fingers. A little flame glowed gently, but grew bigger under Chloe's mental influence. "I'm going to take a look."

The cat shrugged and said, "Of course, if you will, then I suppose I'll go with you."

"You will?" Chloe said, stepping into the darkness.

"Stepping in there doesn't call for naivety," the cat told her, "but I am your companion, aren't I? It wouldn't be prudent to leave you when you could be eaten alive by who knows what in _there_."

"No. No it wouldn't," Chloe muttered as she stuck her candle further into the unknown. It created a hazy glow in the blackness, but it wasn't the most pleasant thing for her to look at. For some inexplicable reason, it brought about memories of the fire she had seen in Dracula's eyes, and she nearly shut her eyes and tripped on her feet at the mere suggestion of it.

Trying to breathe evenly, Chloe looked behind her shoulder, to ensure that they hadn't walked too far; the darkness actually seemed to be swallowing everything, moving about like ink does when spilled. The grey world behind them was nothing but a tiny circle, becoming smaller, and smaller still.

"Do you think…maybe, we walked too far?"

Chloe had barely gotten the words out when she lurched forward and her body felt for a split second like it was freefalling through space. Her heartbeat nearly sliced through her as she finally grappled for something in the pitch darkness.

A loud meow cut through the stillness, and Chloe followed the sound to right at her nose. Something dry and soft nuzzled her face, and although Chloe's heart raced manically, she felt some peace in recognizing what was near her.

"I don't like rats at the best of times," the cat said, pawing at Chloe's cheek gently, "but I smell them leaving quickly. Something's happening."

Chloe's fingers held the ground so hard that her muscles stung, but through all the manic thoughts whirling through her frightened mind, she heard the gentle dripping of water in the pit below her.

And then, with a shocking swiftness, the space around Chloe and the cat lit up like a flip of a switch, and the air instantly turned boiling hot. Her stomach churning, Chloe noticed that the walls that now surrounded her and the cat were blazing gently, radiating dangerous heat. Steam rose everywhere, and the cat spread apart its paws in fear.

And, why did it look like the walls were coming closer and closer to them?

The minute Chloe recognized what was happening, she pulled together her strength to hoist herself from the pit. With a lunge downward, she grabbed the cat and, using one hand, pointed down into the pit. Using all her imaginative might, Chloe's hand grew icy cold as a strong current of water poured out of thin air from her palm. Gradually, Chloe made the rushing water become stronger until she could feel the power of the water racing all throughout her. It plunged down into the pit, splashing into oblivion, but Chloe was determined to fill it before the fiery walls could touch her.

The cat shivered in her arm, burying its head into her side. "No. No indeed, you aren't saying we are going in there!" it protested.

"How else are we going to get out of here?" Chloe asked, pushing more power into the coursing water. "We're not in the rotunda, so I can't imagine us out!"

"Don't look at me! The water!" the cat shouted, looking desperately at the water pouring into the pit.

Chloe shook her head, making a swift decision in the meantime as she stole a glance at the walls closing in. She gently put the cat back on the ground, and, using both hands now, doubled the power of the water. At this point, it was gushing in like a real waterfall, and was finally starting to appear out of the darkness.

But that wasn't enough.

The walls were almost five feet from them.

"Come on, hurry!" Chloe was screaming inside, with the heat and the tension of their situation.

Three feet…

"Let's go!"

Chloe swept her arms downward and once more took the cat in her arms, feeling the heat touch her arm as she leapt down into the water, still sitting in the darkness of the pit.

Bubbles fizzed madly around Chloe, as her arms released the tension and started to grapple once again for something to bring her to the surface. She kicked desperately, squeezing her lips together to keep her precious breath from escaping, but the top of her head finally managed to break the surface.

Chloe yanked herself above the water, breathing fast as she came to complete darkness again. Suddenly the water seemed to take up the space of an ocean, and Chloe's heart could have burned her chest open it was beating that fast. The space was cold and empty, and the cat was nowhere to be found.

The cat!

Pushing through the water, Chloe opened her mouth to scream, which echoed all around her, only increasing her fear. She was terribly frightened, and so flustered, that she couldn't think straight. They were a jumble of desires to escape what she had created and to find the cat, but she couldn't think well enough to do them both at once.

Through excessive willpower, she finally managed to conjure some candles around the rim of the pit, and to think of a way in which she would move forward, instead of backward. She wasn't going back to the forest- back where she started.

Looking at her surroundings, an idea of escape soon came to Chloe. She gave one last grim look at the space around her before she dove back under the water.

Groping around, she made her way to the side of the pit, where she placed her hands against the earthy walls. Palms flat against it, she willed for the earth to give way to a tunnel, and gradually, the earth withered away beneath her palms, crumbling into the water to form a huge, long passage before her. Chloe swam to the tunnel, pulling herself inside quickly.

She was barely inside however, when something heavy and dangerous fell into the water behind her. Scrambling inside the tunnel, she made the entrance start to close up with her mind, barely catching a glimpse of the huge metal object that sliced through the water. She saw it glow, glinting in the candlelight as it fell down. It looked rather sharp, like some kind of axe.

"Hm. Good thing I wasn't a prisoner of _that_ pendulum," Chloe said to herself as she mentally drained the rest of the water from the tunnel.

And now to just keep going forward, she thought. I just hope the cat made it out all right, and will go somewhere safe- if there even is a safe place in this section.

With that thought in mind, Chloe kept going down the tunnel, an imagined candle floating right next to her with her mind's help. It lit her way through all her flustered thoughts, and her eagerness to soon come to the end of the tunnel.

Chloe had become so completely lost in her mind that she was caught off guard when her forehead banged against the end of the earthly wall. With a deep breath she pushed against the wall, gradually moving to shove with her whole body. It was enough for large clumps of earth to fall into her already messy hair, but the wall finally gave way.

Grinning widely, she moved to crawl out, but her hand slipped and she tumbled from the opening and into something cold and wet- much like the dark water in the pit.

Except this time, it was accompanied by a sound- a voice- so rich in a thick accent that there was no mistaking who he was.

"Lady Chloe. It's a joy seeing you in my domain once more…"


	7. Coming to the Border

_**Chapter 7**_

Something hurt in Richard's head, but it was definitely not from an ordinary headache.

Especially when he had fallen at least three football fields' worth distance down a rocky cliff.

"Ow," he muttered as he picked himself up. Like he always used to, he felt his head for any injuries. There was nothing. "How can that be? I fell nearly four hundred feet! How in the heck can I still be _alive_?"

For several minutes, Richard sat on the ground, sweeping his hair back to help clear his mind from the fall. He understood that anything was still possible in this world, but he hadn't expected to be saved because of it. It was amazing; anyone who fell that far a distance would have been killed instantly. But then again, maybe Richard was an exception. Was the fact that he was a Proverb made him immune to life-threatening danger? A possibility, he decided, but still not too likely.

With a final shake of his head, Richard planted his feet and hoisted himself from the ground. There was no time to waste, even when his head felt like it could crack open. Sweeping the dirt from the seat of his pants, Richard made a move forward, but he noticed something strange.

Before him, the land stretched out into a vast stretch of lush green grass with flowers poking out in places. A sand-colored dusty path ran like a ribbon through the green, crossing into a stony bridge over a babbling brook. Trees speckled the path, waving gently in a breeze. The sky was absolutely clear, without any clouds at all. All that touched the sky were some huge snow-capped mountains in the far distance.

Richard was captivated by the beauty of the land, but was snapped out of his reverie when he heard a gentle _click-clack_ing and the rumbling of wheels. He jumped slightly when he watched a little red coach being pulled by six white horses go by on the path. The coach rocked from one side to the other, leaving clouds of dust in its wake while it sped away to the horizon.

Except, could dust sparkle like diamonds? That's how it looked to Richard as he noticed the floating dirt twinkle, like glitter had been mixed with the path.

It looked almost like magic.

"Can this be…?" Richard wondered aloud, turning his eyes in a circle to view once more the amazing land.

He stopped short however, when he caught sight of a giant something flying high above. There was a great sweeping sound as its wings whooshed through the air, its long, scaly tail sweeping the sky behind it.

Richard's heart raced for a second when he recognized the great creature. He stepped back a bit, suddenly remembering the red scaly body and the huge green wings. And when the winged beast turned its head to search the ground below it, its monstrous red eyes found Richard.

"Whoa!"

The familiarity of the dragon, and the dangerous way its eyes bore on him, shocked Richard so that he jumped back the step he had taken. He even stumbled back an extra step when his foot met a sharp rock, tumbling to the ground at last. But what he saw now was what really caught him off guard.

The green grass, the path, the sparkling dust, the dragon- they were all gone! It was all replaced with a large dusty prairie, under a cloud-speckled sky with some buffalo roaming around between the tumbleweeds.

Richard did a double take, even rubbing his eyes to maybe correct what he saw. And even when he also wiped his glasses clean on his shirt, the prairie and buffalo were still there.

"What the…?" he said, standing back up to further inspect what was at hand here. Once again, he panned the entire view with his eyes and soon decided to just step forward again to tread on through the prairie- if he really was going crazy with all this.

Then, when he walked a few steps into the grass, he felt a rush of air at his face, and when he did another double take on the surroundings, his heart took a leap.

The lush field and the snowy mountains were back in full view, everything the same as if he had never left it.

Richard shook his head, still not believing what he was seeing happen. Out of curiosity- about this mysterious event, and his sanity- he stepped backwards, watching as, sure enough, the green field melted into the dull yellow of prairie grass.

"Wow," Richard breathed. If this was what he thought it was, this would call for celebration- a big one.

Gingerly, he reached out a hand and instantly felt the gentle rush of air that seemed to separate the two sides of the section. With a deep breath, Richard stepped through the air, which brushed briefly at his hair, and left the other side behind.

Glancing behind him, Richard saw that the cliff was transformed into another snow-capped mountain, surrounded by the fertile grass and the beautiful book-bearing flowers.

Richard walked away from the mountain and towards the path, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of pride come into him. The sparkling coach and the dragon were both enough to prove to him that he wasn't in the rotunda anymore.

He knew just when he had crossed the border of one of the sections, and Richard grinned all the way up to his eyes. He was one step closer to finding Chloe again, and that thought alone filled him up with a golden light- much similar to the pretty light he had seen in the sparkling dust on the road. And he didn't want to lose that light just yet. He still needed it for the journey he would make across the fantasy section, to find Chloe in one piece and then get back to the rotunda as quickly as they could.

"Wherever you are," he said determinedly, "I'm not going to stop until you're with me! I won't be afraid…"


	8. New Home

_**Chapter 8**_

"What are you doing?"

"Silence, if you please," Dracula purred at Chloe, fixing her with a subtle frown. His lips were pushed together in a fixed, cruel line, with the tiniest hint of the deadly fire blazing in his eyes. Chloe immediately stiffened when he looked at her that way.

For now, Chloe had to chomp on her tongue to refrain from screaming more questions at her captor. She still couldn't believe this! She thought she had gone several miles from the castle, and how in the world had he gotten past the garlic vapor? She thought for sure she'd secured him inside forever, but…just how had he done it?

"I think you'll find it more fitting to stay with me in my beautiful home for some time," Dracula said to her. "It shall be much safer than wandering on your own where the wolves can sup on you."

Chloe had a much viler comeback to the Count's request, but she quickly switched gears. "Well, I was doing just fine without your hospitality," she said, holding the false hope that she would convince the dangerous Count otherwise.

"Yes, I suppose you can say so as you were almost the supper of the women that live below my house," Dracula sneered. "They are not to touch you any longer, my lady. I have dealt with them."

"I don't care about your vampire brides," Chloe snapped.

"Temper, temper," the Count said softly. "It is not polite to speak to your host in that manner. If you should like it, I think the tower would be the best place for you to stay."

"The tower?" Chloe said, looking cocky-eyed at the Count. "Like 'Rapunzel'?"

"In my humble opinion, she was much more fit to wait for her true love in a cellar with the rats. _Beautiful_ women such as yourself deserve to be where I can see you. Always."

"All right well, why not just keep me down in the castle?" Chloe asked, careful to not provoke such an idea in Dracula's mind. "If you really want to see me all the time, it _might _just work better."

Dracula looked back at Chloe, grinning seductively at her. "Solitude shall be good for a fiery woman like you. You need some time to consider whose side of the battle you should like to be part of."

Chloe didn't like the sound of this, and the Count's sly smile only made her heart twirl in helpless circles faster as they finally came upon the bleak estate of Count Dracula.

A shiver tore down through Chloe's body. She had seen this place once before and if that had been terrifying, this was like meeting death face-to-face. She had barely escaped Dracula once before, but this would be even more difficult, because this time he was trapping her in a tower- just like the typical damsel-in-distress. It was not only frightening, but it was slightly demeaning to her.

Dracula then brought Chloe to the far side of the estate, where there stood a tall black tower. It was wrapped up in intertwining vines of ivy, reaching all the way to the top of the roof. Shingles were coming loose on the roof, but were trapped in their places by the ivy. The stones that made up the structure were dark with time, about to collapse to the ground.

Chloe took note of the ancient-looking part of the castle, and she noticed something strange. "But, how are you going to get me up there? There are no stairs or anything," she noted.

The Count didn't say anything. Instead, he took Chloe's hand tighter and flung her onto his back. She yelped, her hair flying into her face as the vampire threw her behind him. The next thing she knew, she and the Count were rising above the ground slowly. She opened her eyes, and with a gasp, she saw that Dracula was climbing up the tower, his talon-like nails clutching at the spaces between the stones just like a climbing lizard.

"Whoa!" she cried, surprised.

She cried out again when suddenly, she was flung from Dracula's back and onto a solid wood floor. It crumbled slightly when she hit it, but it luckily remained intact.

"I bid you welcome, Lady Chloe, to your new home," the Count said, gesturing cordially around the tower room, with his other hand holding onto the windowsill. "Good night now." And with that, he ducked away from the sill and climbed back down before Chloe could even get to her feet and race there after him.

"Whoa, wait!" Chloe shouted down at him. "Where are you going?"

There was no answer. The Count was already inside the castle.

Defeated, Chloe turned around to look at the room she was just dumped in. It was bare as a tomb, and just as dark. Chloe imagined a lit candle on a table next to her, and she finally got a somewhat-clear view of the room. The walls were made of stone, which was just as dark and old as the ones that made up the tower itself. The floor was threatening to crumble around her, so she didn't dare move from her spot.

"It's too bad this place isn't like Rapunzel's tower," she said, "otherwise it would look so much nicer."

Chloe sucked in a breath. That was it. The power of her imagination was limitless, and so were the things she could do for this room. Quickly, she cleared her throat, and breathed deeply to cleanse her mind of any stray thoughts. To take on this challenge, she would need her best creative mind.

"He can't quite see me _all the time_ if there's a curtain in the window. It's almost too easy," she said with a laugh. And then, a set of thick white drapes appeared over the window, fluttering gently in the foul wind from outside. Chloe clapped her hands together and turned to the rest of the room. Pointing to the space next to the window, she imagined a huge king-size bed with the fluffiest comforts she could think of. It would have a blue comforter and pure white pillows, with a gilded headboard and a tulle canopy like what she had when she was a little girl.

And then there it was, with everything she had thought of. She quickly accompanied it with the candle and the bedside table, positioning it just right to be homey enough.

So that was one corner done enough, but the rest of the room would take some time. Chloe cleared her throat yet again and pointed to the next empty space of the tower.


	9. Onward with Peaseblossom

_**Chapter 9**_

Since crossing the border between the rotunda and the fantasy section, Richard was in a much more content state of mind. He was so sure that he was on the right track that he was a lot more motivated to keep moving. Excitement was becoming abundant inside him, and as each minute passed, Richard could wait even less to find Chloe. There were times when he had to control himself to not start sprinting down the path he still followed.

Not to mention the also plentiful beauty of the fantasy section itself. The sky was so brightly blue, that everything around Richard got a natural glow, radiating joyfulness. There were live flowers, but instead of snapping at Richard like they did in the rotunda, they grinned up at him, even laughing sweetly. In between the clumps of those flowers, sweet little fairies of all colors flitted around like butterflies, giggling and singing amongst each other. They left comet-trails of fairy dust behind them, some of it sticking to Richard's clothes as he walked the path, but he didn't quite mind it. The fairies were simple reminders that he was coming closer to completing his mission, and besides, they were really kind little things. Several of them bowed or curtsied to Richard, personally welcoming him into their world.

One fairy in particular, a pretty one wearing a pink dress with several blossoms tied around her red-haired head, perched on Richard's shoulder. Her voice was high and musical as she said, "Soft, what man art thou? Dost thou not remember my name?"

Richard gasped quickly when he heard the voice, but he recognized her manner of speaking to him.

"Peaseblossom?" he asked, surprised to see his old fairy acquaintance. "Wow, I didn't see you. What are you doing here?"

"Paying a visit to some friends of olden years, and," the fairy replied. "But I never once pondered seeing thee here. Thy face brings to life pleasant memories from not too long of yesterday. Please, do tell me- how art thou?"

"I'm looking for Chloe," Richard answered her solemnly. "She was kidnapped by some evil wizards. I don't know who- _what_- they are, but I think that since they are wizards, I should be able to find them in this section."

"Wicked wizards?" Peaseblossom said nervously. "What features lay upon their faces? And their magic- what of that?"

"They used red-colored magic," Richard said. "That's all I can remember."

"Sounds quite the same as the foul creatures our minds' eyes saw not too long ago," Peaseblossom noted, her wings quivering. "I believe it was said to stay a thousand miles' distance from them. Did you not heed our advice?"

"_We _didn't go to_ them_," Richard clarified. "They came to us. They ambushed us, and then they took Chloe with them."

"Kidnapped?" the little fairy yelped. "Oh, gods, I pray to you, good lord. Tell me it is not so."

"I won't lie to you. It's true. Chloe's been taken somewhere in this section, and I'm trying to find her before something happens to her."

Peaseblossom grimaced, her wings wilting like a sad dog's ears. "What foul villains they are to perform such foul deeds. But the most vital question of this time is, which direction did they proceed in their kidnapping? Mayhap that should relay some truth to this mystery."

"I don't remember, that's the problem," Richard said, slumping his shoulders at the fairy's question. "All I know is that her kidnappers were evil characters with magic powers. I think you know what kinds of things people like that can do to Chloe, even with her powers going against them."

"Please, no necessity for anger, my friend. I've known devils in my years, and I believe thee in the knowledge that such characters are not to be left in solitude for long. They must be found, or it shall be ill times for your lady."

Suddenly, remembering how Peaseblossom and the other fairies had seen the wizards lurking in the woods, he wondered if maybe Peaseblossom could do the same for him. It shouldn't be very far, he reasoned. If Chloe was in this section, then surely a fairy could see how far he would have to go to reach her.

"Peaseblossom," Richard addressed her, "how did you see the wizards in the woods? Did you have a vision of them or something like that, or did you actually watch them take over the forest in front of you?"

"Easily said, my lord," she answered. "Fairies such as myself have the keen ability to span miles upon miles of distance in the eyes of our minds. However, it is a great misfortune that they are not active at all hours. It is a thing that works only with the power of the section in which we reside at a current time. Should something occur, it either comes to fairies in place nearby, or not never at all."

"You mean, you can only see something happen when it's a bad thing?" Richard said, already starting to feel defeated.

"An ungodly thing, I know of that," Peaseblossom agreed. "It is naught but a gift given to us by our almighty king and queen, Oberon and Titania. If you should like me to perform such a tiring service to you- locating your beloved lady Chloe- it is out of the control of my little hands. Thou shall have to take it up with Oberon himself."

The deflated balloon in Richard's chest suddenly inflated once again. So maybe there was some hope in getting the help he needed now.

"Then, can you take me to him?" he asked.

Peaseblossom's smile faded when he asked the question. She fluttered her wings briefly, as if nervous. "Alas, that is but another mountain in your path, I am sorry to state. Oberon and his queen are in the most awful affairs of things. You see, Titania has taken possession of a child of a dear friend of hers, and Oberon should like to transform said child into yet another fairy servant in his army. The sky may look blue in this place now, but should you step into the territory of the fey, the sky shall promise foul events to unfold. In particular, with the presence of a human from the otherworld."

Richard shook his head in defiance. "But, Peaseblossom, you don't understand it. I have to find Chloe soon before things get even more out of hand. There's going to be a _war- _a huge one- and if Chloe is out there unprotected, there'll be heck to pay if something happens to her because of me. I'm the Proverb of the Books! I'm supposed to be there as her guardian!"

Peaseblossom instantly fluttered off of Richard's shoulder at his words. Her wings fluttered madly as she flung herself to her knees in the air. Her long hair fell over her face, almost causing her flower tiara to fall off her head.

"Oh, forgive me! Please accept my apology for not recognizing thee as thou title is." The poor fairy was practically crying as she said her words.

"Please don't do that," Richard said, gently using his index finger to pull Peaseblossom from her desperate position. "All I'm asking is that, if the fairy kingdom isn't too far away from here, you can take me there to talk to Oberon, or even Titania."

The little pink fairy fluttered beside Richard, one tiny glowing hand resting on his shoulder sweetly. "Suddenly, I see that should he recognize he is speaking to a Proverb, there is a likely chance things shall turn in your favor!"

"Then you'll take me there?" Richard said, putting on his best hopeful face.

"In a day's walk, at the very most of time, it shall stand before your hopeful eyes," Peaseblossom replied. "And please, do allow for me to bring to thee whatever accommodations it takes to make thy journey pleasant."

"That'd be nice," Richard said, "but you don't have to do it. Knowing where Chloe is would be enough for me."

"Onward to the fairy kingdom, good comrade," Peaseblossom declared, doing a happy swirl around Richard's head and shoulders, and then twirling like a ballerina into the air, with a huge stream of magic sparkles falling from her wings. "And may the gods shine down on thy courageous quest, and thy fair lady!"


	10. Imagination Knows No Bounds

_**Chapter 10**_

Since using all of her creative juices on transforming the grim tower into a homey nook, it was now a magical variation on her old room back home, with a great big bed, a beautiful vanity and shelves of books. Chloe had even imagined some copies of her old toys, making the room look just the place to be when she felt blue.

The bed rose sweetly around her as she sunk into the mattress. The pillows and the tulle canopy enveloped her in such comfort, Chloe sincerely believed that she was back home, with her mother stewing spaghetti- Chloe's favorite- in the kitchen, and her father alphabetizing, for the hundredth time that month, the books in their house. She grinned, imagining things being in such a content state, that she couldn't bring herself to think of the tower still around her. It was as though heaven itself came down just to see her for a moment; that was how comfortable she felt lying in her cloudy bed.

Chloe unexpectedly shivered though, when the curtains of the window fluttered open and a cold breeze zipped through the tulle and across the bed. She attempted to close the curtains with her mind, but the breeze was too strong for that tactic. From the sound of it however, it seemed like something just as powerful was brewing outside.

Rising from the marshmallow softness, Chloe crossed to the window and poked her head out at the surrounding air circling the tower. There was certainly no storm coming, but the air somehow felt thinner, less dank. Wispy clouds crossed the face of the full moon overhead, a stream of autumn leaves accompanying them noisily.

In sticking herself out in the weather, Chloe's skin rose in goose bumps. Her limbs shook with the unusual cold, and she ducked back in the window, tying the curtains together with some ribbon. She'd hoped maybe that would make it better, but the dank room was now just as freezing as the outside world had been.

She knew just what to do.

Opening up her mind, Chloe imagined a fire brewing in the fireplace across the room from her bed. It glowed gently against the stone mantle, sweetly inviting and instantly filling the entire room with warmth.

And still, more ideas popped through Chloe's mind, as she moved her focus to the empty space before the fireplace. With a flex of her brain, a soft, round rug materialized, weighted to the floor by an enormous and ornate bathtub already filled with steamy water.

Stepping in front of the fireplace, she slipped out of her dress- the one she had worn every day since the journey began- and stuck her toes, then her feet, into the tub. She relaxed her muscles under the soothing spell of the warm water, all while a pretty changing screen enveloped her, the tub and the fireplace in a corner. It was covered in beautiful designs of flowers and trees, much like what the battlefield in the rotunda had looked like. While slightly translucent, it still cut off most of the full moon's powerful light going through the thin curtains, creating an even softer glow from the flames. To top it off, Chloe even tried to make some flowers bloom around her for a relaxing smell, but it was still impossible for her to create life out of thin air. That was the only disappointment to this new, beautiful atmosphere while she sunk her whole body into the water, which seemed to almost pungently caress her while she did so.

Her head was barely touching the rippling surface when she heard a soft sound moving against the glass screen. A low whistle that seemed to radiate a small draft, even through the glass, wavered through the air. Chloe felt the draft against her cheeks, and quickly dipped her head below the water when she heard another sound come from the mysteriousness just inches away from her.

"You are still awake, like the nightly bat."

Chloe couldn't hear the voice, but the hot water cut her off from the world altogether. She felt safe from the strange draft inside the thick heat, the bubbles coming from her mouth tickling her nose. It was hard not to explode to the surface with the feeling, but something kept her weighted to the bottom of the tub.

Finally, Chloe opened her eyes to little slits, watching briefly while the bubbles floated upward, distorting a shadow-like figure against the glow of the fire. It was momentarily breathtaking to her, but her air couldn't hold. She broke her head through the surface, gasping for another breath while she wiped her eyes.

"Evening, lady."

Chloe's eyes snapped open and she lurched from the water, screaming as she fell from the tub and scrambled through an opening in the changing screen to escape the stranger. She moved around quite aimlessly, her mind imagining half a million things at once to try and cover herself up. She managed to conjure some strips of cloth that slowly came together on her body to make do as clothing, but they barely held onto her as something caught her by surprise once more.

"Do not move away from me," the voice said, gently commanding but soothingly arousing. "Come here."

Chloe stood stiffly again, her eyes becoming hazy before her as she turned on her heel, moving mechanically towards the alluring voice. Her dripping hair left a wet trail on the floor, plopping softly with the patter of her bare feet.

She turned the corner, into the interior of the glass screen, where sure enough, there stood the Count in all his wicked, devilish glory. That perpetual fixed glare was still there, cracking into a tiny grin as his prey turned in his direction. He had never, in all the centuries he so rarely preyed upon lovely women, felt his dead heart come so much alive. A woman like that had blood that churned quickly enough through her veins that it was an angelic voice to him. And she was so young. A creature who looked that young would secure so many victims for him that it seemed a crime to not take her for his helper. Her powers would slowly drain, and the second Proverb would be gone. One last Proverb alone could never defeat him, especially the helpless blonde one who could bring books to life.

Imagination would be no more with her as his.

"You're so exceptionally beautiful, dear child," Dracula purred. "Your companionship with me would be so gratefully accepted."

Chloe still didn't speak. Her eyes looked almost dead under the vampire's influence, though they still had a bit of a live sparkle to them.

Dracula reached out to Chloe, and took her hand, still clammy from the spell. It sent a rush through the Count to have such a warm presence against his dead skin; he could almost _feel_ the blood coursing beneath her pale skin, pumping gently as one feels water droplets on their cheek. The fangs picked at his lips, as though trembling in anticipation of just one drink.

Chloe involuntarily licked her lips. Her eyes were still glazed over, but she could see the Count a lot more clearly now. He was still an old man, with the long mustache and graying hair, but he had suddenly become god-like to her. She couldn't place why exactly; vampires had that kind of power to them that she always imagined, but never dreamed existed.

The Count slowly grinned at her, and Chloe's green eyes flicked to the two sharp, gleaming fangs just protruding over the lower lip, seeming to draw blood from them.

Blood?

Chloe blinked twice at seeing the two canines, seeming to flex in his gums like muscles. They were beautiful and gleaming white, but they held a terrifying presence that seemed to snap inside her.

Finally, with a jolt in her stomach, the horrifying image in her imagination pulled her back to reality. She shuddered, backing away from the Count in sheer horror at what almost happened. But she backed so far away that she stumbled over the rim of the bathtub and plummeted back into the hot water with a splash!

The Count advanced upon Chloe, while the spilled water ran in a puddle towards the fireplace, making a loud sizzling noise in the ashes that was only a whisper compared to Chloe's scream.

"You must not fear me," Dracula said, reaching into towards Chloe's wet arm sticking out over the rim of the tub.

Chloe yanked herself from the water, swiftly causing a long bathrobe to appear over her soaked body. "If you would just get out of here," she said, a growl sneaking up through her words, "then that would be even more wonderful than one of your little bloodbaths."

"I come, only out of desire to ask you one question," he said, his dark eyes boring into Chloe. "Whose side of this battle shall you go towards? One of them shall cost you your very life, and the other shall save you."

Chloe's body was rigid with her anger. She didn't like how the Count was trying to toy with her, much less that he had the nerve to ask her that question when he might as well know the answer. He couldn't ask her that question right after he had trapped her, and didn't attempt to convince her in the slightest that joining the villains was the right thing. Which it most certainly wasn't!

"What makes you think I'll go to your side?" she asked, clenching her fingers into fists. "When, clearly, you haven't tried to prove to me what will make joining you the right thing to do."

"It is easy business," Dracula said. "You shall see one day that our tactics of conquering our enemies are of much greater aptitude than your friends. They bumble aimlessly without thought wherever they sneak. With us, your power could grow to the very horizon, and further. We shall do wonderful things for you, when you are in my hand." He made a move closer to her. "With you as my companion, nothing will be impossible to your gift."

Chloe swiftly took her arm out of the Count's reach. "My gift has already reached the horizon," she said defiantly. "It did just that weeks before you and your stupid friends showed up and took me here. Besides, if you want to ask me, I'll tell you that my power is trained for good magic. I'm a Proverb. It's what all three of them are supposed to be, because they are linked to all the Pages, and the Pagemaster!"

Dracula grinned that grin again. "You delude yourself to the ways of the good side of our world. It has always been known that the wicked have the better minds and creative endeavor that your kind lacks so."

This was getting annoying. Chloe stepped closer to the Count daringly, intentionally boring her eyes into his in a mockery of his own stare. "Get out of here right now," she growled. "I do good magic, but I might just do perhaps the one evil thing I'll ever do to _you_."

"I shall like to see you do so, my sweet lady."

Her limbs quivered with the power threatening to surge from her, but she was able to keep it at bay while she closed in further on the Count. Keeping a straight face, she pushed him out from behind the changing screen, and finally across the floor to the curtained window. It felt like perhaps she was having some control on the vicious vampire, because despite that the power was threatening to explode from her hands, some of it leaked through her mind and out through her eyes. It was a great surge of powerful energy, and although Chloe was exercising good control on what leaked from her, she couldn't hold it for too much longer.

It was moderately easy to control this, but just looking at the Count made Chloe's heart burn with intense hatred for him. He was the reason she was separated from Richard, Sir Hugo and Jip, instead of continuing the way things were supposed to. He'd trapped her up here, and only succeeded in aggravating her further, rather than convincing her to become a sick vampire companion to an even more revolting monster.

Yes. Dracula was a monster, and she knew it as well as she knew her own name. Better than she knew her own name!

"Lady…"

That did it.

Chloe's fists came loose, and so did her control over the magic building inside her arms. She lunged forth at her enemy, her arms swinging before her, the both of them seeming to illuminate in all different colors. The colors flashed like lightning, sparking like bolts and streaking across all areas of her vision. It was startlingly astounding, and at the same time it was surreally beautiful. She hardly took it all in though, because the power ripping through her skin was enough to knock even her off her feet. This was something she had never done before.

Perhaps she hadn't even _seen_ the horizon after all.

Chloe was indeed knocked off balance by her blast of magic, but the most powerful blow was handed to the Count. The magnitude of this magic was a great surprise, and definitely something beyond which he could easily control, like rats and wolves. No, this was beyond even the power of those in deities living above and below.

And even when the Count caught himself on the wall just below the windowsill, his sight was still dazed by what he had taken to his body. First, he had been amazed by the little lady's beauty, and now she was practically an angel by the power she had displayed. It was impressive, and would be even more useful to him now; that was, after he recovered fully from the blow.

The vampire crept down the stone wall, illuminated by the full moon's light. There was a soft crinkling in the dead grass when he touched back down again.

"You okay?" a tiny, meek voice asked the Count from not too far away.

Dracula glanced up to see a slightly chunky figure come into view. It was a teenage girl, like the lady in the tower, only she was a little less attractive. Particularly when a thick, sticky layer of blood covered her face, body, and the soiled dress she wore.

"I've witnessed a miracle," was all Dracula said. "The girl up in the tower- she possesses a power farther beyond even that of your meek object-affecting ability. Overtaking our enemies may be easier than we ever expected."

"I'm not meek," the girl said softly. "I…I've killed hundreds before. If I concentrate well enough, I think I can move all the heroes off the battlefield."

"Silence, girl," Dracula harshly commanded. "A warrior maiden must be powerful and beautiful. You appear as though you have been spewed from the depths of the Hellfire."

The girl shed a little tear, but she kept a straight posture. "I was supposed to be beautiful. But Momma told me someone would laugh at me."

"Worse shall yet be done, child. Particularly if you meddle with our plans to help the lady cross over to our side forever."

"What about the other boy?" the girl wanted to know. "Won't he come and find her soon?"

"Not if we dispose of him properly. And I shall see that _she _does not escape from us."

"What if she does?"

"Then you stay away from her. She must stay alive for all of good to fall!"


	11. Carrie

_**Chapter 11**_

It was silent when, for a long while, nothing happened. The occasional howling of a far-off wolf broke the quiet, but to Chloe, all she heard was the raspy sound of breathing. Her shoulders rose and then back down, but the rest of her was still as the stone walls around her. Not even her eyes flicked around in their sockets.

What had just happened?

Even the tiniest part of Chloe's brain was stumped as to a guess. Of course, she knew it had to be magic of the most powerful kind, but _what _exactly? It was like fireworks, while not the celebratory Fourth of July kind, had exploded from the very bottom of her. When the magic came out of her, she felt it rushing through her all the way from her toes, through her limbs, along her spine; it even felt like it was pushing through the individual veins in her heart, prickling along like icy water. Even now she could feel the magnificent power trickling away at last, but she still held the lingering excitement and adrenaline.

Strangely, now that the lightning and fireworks had finally come out of her, Chloe no longer felt much anger or fear. The dangerous accumulation was almost entirely gone, cleansing her soul of what she felt before. And for the first time, since stepping into the wonderful warm bath, her shoulders relaxed and her stomach stopped swishing madly inside. Every muscle in her body slowly loosened and her terrified thoughts turned to mush, replaced by dreamy images of starlight and gentle darkness.

It startled Chloe. She expected to still harbor the same intense anger for Count Dracula and everything he called his own. But now that her emotions felt so empty and dreamily relaxed, it was hard to not feel drawn to the vacant seat under the open window.

Her feet barely making a peep on the wood, Chloe stepped slowly to the seat. She drew the curtains gently aside, so that her face could look out at the full moon. Unlike earlier, the sky was clear and the face of the moon was brighter than ever. Even though this was the horror section, Chloe could even spot a few stray stars amidst the darkness. Such an unusually cheery sight brightened her mood, if only very slightly. And besides, the night was aging quickly. Perhaps it was time she forgot this night and got into bed. Oh, yes, bed sounds wonderful, she thought.

Chloe sniffed deeply, and then let out a yawn before stretching her arms sleepily away from the windowsill.

She was turning away slowly, until something caught her eye among the spires of the castle.

Poking her head back out the window, Chloe turned her gaze to a flickering candlelight in another tower near hers, except a couple yards shorter. Squinting her eyes, she noticed a dark figure standing out boldly against the light. It was that of a person, with a slightly chunky middle, with long, straggly hair. When it moved into the light, Chloe noticed the person's skin glint a dark shade of red, almost maroon. Strings of hair covered the eyes, colorless even in the candlelight.

Imagining a small pair of binoculars into her hands, Chloe peered closer at whoever was in the tower. She had an idea, but she wasn't too sure until she looked through the lenses.

A tiny gasp escaped her lips. "Carrie White," she whispered, recognizing the famous telekinetic character from one of her drawings.

Looking around, Chloe observed the surroundings of Carrie's tower. It was dismal in there, with barely any furniture save for a pillow-less bed, and a little vanity by the window. Carrie was looking into the mirror in the vanity, which was broken in four separate pieces, placed back together quite precariously. In the reflection, her face was pink under the dried blood that still covered her. Some of it washed away gradually, while tiny tears fell from her eyes. The eyes were glossy and wet, popping out against the dark maroon of the blood.

Carrie leaned closer to the mirror, putting her hands on her cheeks, clearly depressed. She swept her hair from her face, but the colorless strands just fell back into place. With that, Carrie's shoulders shook as more tears came.

Chloe couldn't watch this sad scene anymore, but she couldn't take the binoculars away from Carrie. She had always felt a soft spot for this particular character. Although the circumstances of the girl's story were extreme, Chloe had never identified so much with any one character in her life. Every time she re-read the scenes where Carrie was cornered in the shower by the other girls, or when her brutally religious mother shoved her into a creepy closet to pray her sin-filled heart out, she pledged an imaginary friendship to Carrie, although she knew she wouldn't ever meet her.

But now, she was only so many feet away from her! Shivers of excitement stuck to Chloe's spine, and she finally took the binoculars from her eyes to stop them.

Imagining the tool away, Chloe finally stopped her glancing to and from Carrie. She felt bad enough spying on her, but she was starting to wonder; what was it that had caused Carrie to cry like she was? Perhaps it was just her story working itself out, in which she was crying from another day of torture and bullying from her classmates.

But then again, what was she doing actually being inside of Dracula's castle? It wasn't as though he personally invited her in, what with the way she looked and all; and he certainly wasn't the kind of person to do so for just any random girl. Unless of course, she had influenced him with her telekinesis.

Not too likely; something was definitely up.

"Carrie!" Chloe called out without first thinking.

Carrie's eyes flicked around shortly before she turned from the mirror and then out the window. Her glazed eyes met Chloe's, and she flinched, immediately turning back to the mirror, shaking her head.

Chloe glanced at the surrounding grounds of the castle. When there was no movement anywhere around her, she cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Carrie, look up here! I want to talk to you!"

She didn't answer, only keeping her gaze to the broken mirror.

"Listen to me, will you? Please. I don't want to do anything to you, I promise!"

Carrie hesitated a moment, before she finally turned to Chloe's window. Her eyes were still wet, but she wasn't crying anymore.

"I don't like to be tricked," was all she said.

"I'm not tricking you. I just want you to come up here, so I can talk to you for a minute. I mean it!"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you. He said I couldn't."

"'He'? Oh, you mean Dracula." Chloe shook her head, silently frustrated with the Count's nerve to control someone like Carrie. "Well, you want to know what I think of him? I think he's nothing but a monster who's overstayed his welcome on my good side, as well as yours, I believe. He shouldn't be the one in charge of you!"

"He said not to listen to you either."

"For crying out loud, Carrie! You've got to stop listening to people using your fear to control you! They've lied to you over and over again, and you're just going to succumb to everything that someone tells you to do? It's not right!"

"He'll send me below to the fire if I don't." Carrie's voice quivered, and even from the distance they talked back and forth to each other, Chloe heard her whispering something under her breath. She was looking at something hanging over her bed, with her hands clasped together.

Suddenly, Chloe felt an even more overwhelming reason to get closer to Carrie. Dracula had now become ten times the vicious thing he was to her before. He had exerted enough control on poor Carrie, who, for sure, felt fear in every corner of herself. She was acting out of pure fright, not loyalty to the Count.

Without a second's wait, Chloe then pulled her hand forward with palm extended, and summoned an imaginary ladder that connected the two towers. Swiftly and quietly, she moved down the ladder, dropping down onto the decaying floor of Carrie's tower.

Carrie whirled around from the crucifix over her bed when she noticed Chloe.

"No! Go back!" she cried. "He'll kill both of us if he comes back!"

"The heck with Dracula!" Chloe said firmly, flashing her hand back at her bedroom window, where two flapping doors snapped closed behind the curtains. She glared at the magical ladder, and it vanished completely.

Whirling around back to Carrie, Chloe relaxed her expression and put on a gentle, neutral face. "Okay, Carrie, I know you think it's a good thing to listen to Dracula, but he's only going to kill you in the end like he might do to me when this war ends. You don't want to die, do you? That's why you should get out of here when you can!"

"I can't go back," Carrie whispered. "Momma is gone. The _thing_ killed her."

"Better than staying here with Dracula!" Chloe said loudly. "You're not the one he wants, which is why I don't understand why you're here. Can you please tell me?"

Carrie's eyes wandered a little before she shyly turned back to Chloe's imploring gaze. "He tried…he tried to take me," she finally admitted. "But, I used the thing in my mind to make him go away. And then, he said he wanted me to do something."

Chloe didn't say anything, only looking at Carrie with question.

"If I stayed with him, to help get rid of the Proverb of the Imagination, named Lady Chloe, then he would let me live here."

"And you agreed to him?"

"I was scared and lost. I didn't know what else I could do." Her eyes slowly cast downward at her lap, hidden by her bloody dress. "I thought maybe I could escape anyone who tried to trick me."

Carrie's voice was so full of innocent, childlike tearfulness that Chloe's heart instantly went out to her. It was still a long moment, however, before she finally inched closer to Carrie in an attempt to comfort her.

"Listen," she said, "I know absolutely how you feel about those people. I've known a few of them myself back home, and believe me when I say that I never liked being teased either. But then I saw that what set me apart from the rest of them. It's called uniqueness, and it's what makes you and me special."

"They did this to me," Carrie said, gesturing to her face and dress. "And Momma said I was a sinner. She could see through me as surely as God can."

"You're not a sinner. And you know what? Your classmates were actually way below you. They were stupid enough to not recognize you for the wonderful girl that you are. You, on the other hand, were smart to stand up to your mom when she threatened you. Why don't you do that when that Dracula tells you off again? I know you can do it."

Carrie's sad frown gradually started to break, the corners of her lips lifting up to her eyes. "You think I can?"

Chloe winked at Carrie, and that was all that she needed.

"Are…are you my friend?"

Chloe was caught off for a second, but she instantly got blissful warmth inside when Carrie's question crossed her mind. And she answered by grinning sincerely, and putting her arms around Carrie. Carrie was slow to react, but she did the same right after.

"You're a great person, Carrie," Chloe added. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Chloe felt Carrie nod her head.

Until a red-hot wind shook the room apart…!

Chloe and Carrie fell from the bed, rolling to the floor as an explosion of power came from the open window. The air turned slightly red overhead while someone burst through into the room.

Dizziness swept through Chloe's mind before she looked up to notice who had come for them.

"How dare you come here!" Dracula's heavy and angry voice carried through all the grounds, ringing painfully in Chloe's ears. "You were to stay in the tower where you belong! And as for you"- he hurled an angry finger at Carrie –"you were to keep your bloody hands away from her! You perform such a vile task again, and the filthy women down in my dungeons shall take you for their next victim!"

Chloe had had enough of this.

"Don't _you _dare talk to her like that!" she screamed at the Count. "I know what you are, but you don't scare me anymore! And you will _not _do _anything_ to Carrie either! I won't sit still and let you control us anymore! You do anything more to her, and I swear on my grave, I'll…" She held her hand high, and a long-bladed Bowie knife materialized. The point was poised in the air like it was a wooden stake, about to strike.

The Count, on the other hand, seemed unfazed.

"Carrie." He looked at her with an unwavering command in his eyes, the darkness in them igniting with a momentary, but angry, blaze.

Chloe turned back to look at Carrie, who flicked her eyes between Chloe and Dracula. With each movement of her eyes, she seemed to become more and more terrified. Fear leaked through her eyes quickly, becoming the tears that streamed down her face.

"No, no, no," she whimpered over and over. It was uncertain whether she was talking to herself, or to Dracula.

"Do it now," the Count slurred.

Carrie was quiet, before she let out a huge scream that echoed tenfold the power of Dracula's entrance, and when Chloe hurled herself around to avoid Carrie's pained expression, she yelped in noticing the satisfied smirk on the Count's dead face.

The knife in Chloe's hand vibrated violently, like a squirming, wild animal. The handle slipped a few centimeters across her sweaty fingers, and quickly, Chloe let go of the knife while she leapt from the window of the tower, giving herself the magic ladder once more to bring herself up to her tower, under the frantic influence of her imagination.

She tossed herself through the flapped doors, which disintegrated with just one angry thought. The hardwood floor smacked her, but it wasn't quite as much as the blow she felt inside.

Carrie wouldn't go through with Chloe after all.

Chloe allowed for the thought to clutch her, wallowing shortly in it, while she heard voices down in Carrie's tower.

"That girl shall never come down to you. Understand?"

"She was nice to me."

"She is your sworn enemy! She shall poison your mind with her good magic. Should I ever catch you conversing with the lady Chloe, I will confine you to this tower for as long as I intend to remain on this earth."

"But…"

"Silence! I am capable of giving you to the three brides, if you shall like to."

"No."

"Then do not speak with the girl! For I believe you would make a poor meal to myself or to _them_! A vampire does not take a good scent when they are covered with pig's blood. Vile thing, you would be. But, that would not be any different than it is at this moment."

Carrie sniffled loudly.

"I'll leave you," Dracula concluded, stepping to the window. "You put thought into using your ability to place my comrades ahead of _hers_. You are not to converse with her… unless you will do something right, and put your power to her vulnerable mind like she has done yours…"


	12. Through the Glass

_**Chapter 12**_

"Dost thou wish to stop? Thy face is red as the hair on my head!"

Peaseblossom could not have been more correct. Richard's face, typically so pale, was fevering up. Like in the rotunda, the sun boring down from the perfect sky was very, very hot. And the peasant clothes he had been wearing the past few days were starting to get wrinkly and damp. It was really uncomfortable, particularly on his back, where a huge circle of sweat was soaking through the cloth. His clothes hung from his body in thick, wet drapes, and about now, even the tips of his fingers were coated in a film of perspiration.

"I can handle it," he lied.

Peaseblossom glanced behind her at the afternoon sun. "I've never come to an understanding myself why 'tis always so like summer," she said. "Midsummer is unbearable in itself outside the Athenian forest, but this is treacherous. I pray this isn't the work of Oberon and his Titania. Oh, what tender power they hath."

Richard swallowed hard, remembering what special power the fairy king and queen had. He trusted the likelihood of Oberon helping him locate Chloe, but aside from that, the idea of making the weather move with their emotion was kind of unnerving. He certainly hoped that Oberon wouldn't zap him with lightning if he moved an inch in the wrong direction with his request. Clearly they had as much power as a wizard, but were a hundredfold more sensitive.

Peaseblossom laid her penny-sized hand on Richard's shoulder, coming to rest her whole body on it. "Pay nothing of thy mind Oberon or Titania, my lord," she said tenderly. "They hold such sensitive natures, but they'll do nothing upon the realization of thy identity. A good servant like myself has the capability of keeping them at bay should anything occur."

"So you've said," Richard said. "If they're really that bad, I just don't want to upset them. Or at least, not Oberon anyway."

"Our fairy king is nothing against what is building in the center of our world. Thou hast looked death in the dead eye, and thou never took a step back. Thy lady would say nothing different than I state now."

Richard gave the fairy a queer look out of the corner of his eye, but she only grinned reassuringly at him. Chloe would have said the same thing, but with each minute that passed, Richard's confidence in finding himself was slipping away, inch by inch.

Peaseblossom sighed, sweeping something invisible from her arms. "Ah me. This sun is too much. Please, dear gods, let my king and queen settle their quarrel by the next moonrise. And, where in the name of all fairyland is some shelter? A thousand centuries hath never seen such barrenness."

Richard glanced at his shoulder to look at his fairy friend, but when he turned back to gaze ahead, his nose came in contact with something huge and hard, sending him stumbling to the ground. Peaseblossom yelped squeakily, and fluttered her wings to hover in the air.

"Great gods!" she said. "From what other place did this wall materialize?"

Richard stood back up, shaking his head to clear the blow. He rubbed his nose carefully with his hand, wincing. "That's not just a wall," he said to Peaseblossom. He observed the sturdy brick, decorated with vines. It curved sharply on either side, with lamps bolted to it on both sides of a wooden door.

"It's a house," he answered.

"What an immense surprise seeing it here," Peaseblossom said, flitting around the space. She picked at the vines on the wall, and then up above the wall, where she shortly disappeared from view. "In sight of the place, it must be huge. Someone in possession of boundless money must make their home here."

Richard turned his head in both directions, and looked along the wall, all the while backing up to understand how he had missed the house coming. To his surprise, it seemed to be an entire mansion with an old Victorian porch and a picket fence surrounding the backyard area. It was neatly painted and decorated, but what was even more amazing, was that the atmosphere was chilly, and the house was entirely covered in snow.

"I don't know how I didn't see it," Richard said, shivering briefly in the sudden cold, "but we just should go around it and get moving again."

"But, soft," Peaseblossom said, "dost thou believe it shall be prudent to cease our journey for a moment and rest? The sun has turned cold, and we should get inside."

Richard shook his head, half-frustrated and half-pleased about Peaseblossom's proposal. It was vital that they pressed on to the fairy kingdom, but it also was getting quite cold. It shocked Richard greatly, and for a moment, he shook.

"Okay," he agreed. "Let's go see if anyone's home."

"Yes, please, make haste," Peaseblossom said, following her friend to the door.

Stepping up to the door, Richard lifted his hand to knock on the door, doing so three times on the soft wood. Snow fell in drops from the eaves with each knock, plopping gently on the porch.

"Hello?" a voice called from inside the house.

Richard pressed his ear to the door, listening further to the voice. But there came no other answer other than the questioning call.

"Hello, can you let me and my friend in, please?" Richard asked.

"Who are you?" the voice called back. It was that of a little girl, small and sweet.

"You probably don't know," Richard said, "but I'm one of the Proverbs. I'm the one that can open books and make them come alive."

There was quiet on the other side of the door, and for several moments, Richard was quite unsure of what the girl was doing. Maybe she didn't know what a Proverb was. Not every single person knew about the Proverbs, didn't they?

Richard's eyes widened slowly as he heard the pitter-patter of shoes on a carpeted floor. He heard something click, and then almost fell completely forward when the door slid open, with a flood of light coming into the grayness. He instantly regained his footing when small hands grabbed his shoulders and helped him back on his feet.

"Are you all right?" the girl in the doorway wanted to know.

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay," Richard said, finally taking note of the girl. She was indeed a small girl, one of about seven or eight years of age. Her hair was a shoulder-length blonde, tied back with a dark headband. She wore a blue knee-length tea dress, covered by a clean white pinafore, outlined gently in red. White stockings covered her little legs, and she had neatly polished black shoes on her feet.

It was quiet between the two, before finally, Peaseblossom fluttered out before the girl, who squealed in surprise and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Are you a fairy?" the girl asked after a second.

"Merely a fairy and naught else, little child," Peaseblossom said. "May I inquire your name?"

"My name is Alice," said the girl.

"Peaseblossom," added the fairy sweetly. She flew up to Alice's forehead and gave her a little kiss. Alice smiled, and giggled.

"Now, I implore to thee," Peaseblossom began, "my comrade, Richard, and I have traveled so very many a mile, and we should like to take hospitality in thy home. Shall thee fetch thy mother and ask if we can stay for the evening?"

Alice shrugged. But then she looked up at Richard. "I suppose so. You said that you are one of the Proverbs. And you do seem very kind and gentle."

"I am," Richard clarified.

"Well, all right," Alice said, opening the door. "Come in before you catch a cold out here."

"Thank you!" Richard and Peaseblossom said at the same time as they walked inside the door. And while Alice closed it, they glanced at the inside of the glorious house. There were statues and paintings and many, many pieces of expensive, polished furniture in all kinds of colors. It was quite the inviting atmosphere, and after being outside in the cruel weather for so long, it was tempting to Richard to just collapse in one of the cozy-looking chairs without first asking.

Alice turned from the door, walking quickly from the lobby to another hallway that led into a parlor.

"Come in here," she said to her guests. "I want you to come and meet my friends."

Richard and Peaseblossom moved into the parlor, where they noticed Alice sitting on the floor with two kittens. One was black, and the other was white, the two of them tumbling around each other just like little children. Alice giggled watching them, petting them anytime that they stood still.

The fairy flew into the fray, sprinkling some of her magic dust onto the kittens. The two of them rolled on the carpet into the sparkling dust, meowing playfully.

"I can't believe it," Alice said, looking between the kittens and Peaseblossom. "I just cannot believe it. A real fairy who can make magic!"

Peaseblossom grinned at Alice, pulling back from the playing kittens.

"Suppose you can make something interesting happen?" Alice asked curiously.

Readjusting her flower tiara, Peaseblossom then put her hands out in front of her and, from her fingertips, some sparkling dust fell gently onto Alice's shoes. They changed color for a blink of an eye, but then they started to squirm around her feet. Alice gasped in surprise as she got to her feet, and slowly, her shoes started to move and dance around the fancy carpet, taking her with them.

"Oh, you're a sweet little fairy!" Alice exclaimed, joyful as she danced around the room. "This is wonderful."

"It's naught but music to me hearing the laughter of a small child," Peaseblossom said. "And I do thank you ever so joyously for your kindness."

"So do I," said Alice. "I read fairy tales all the time, but I never thought one would come to me first. Perhaps when I grow up, I'll write another fairy tale about me and you both."

Peaseblossom giggled, covering her mouth with her hand modestly while the dancing magic on Alice's feet ended.

Then, as she looked up at the wall over the mantel, the little fairy was in gleeful surprise to see a large, square mirror hanging above the fireplace. It looked remarkable seeing two of her at once, as her dust made the space around her glow.

"What a device," Peaseblossom said, looking herself over in the mirror. "It's as though I see myself in the reflection of a great pond. But no ripple at all."

"That's a mirror," Richard said, striding up to the fireplace.

Alice followed Richard, all the while frowning in thought at the mirror. When at last she was climbing up on a chair and onto the mantel with Peaseblossom, she put her hand to the glass. As expected, it reflected back, even as she made a little motion with her head.

"Little fairy," Alice addressed her, "Mr. Proverb, er, Richard, sir, have you ever wondered what's on the other side of the mirror before?"

"Nothing except your reflection, I guess," Richard answered. But he then stopped short in his doubtful thoughts. "But, then, I've been seeing lots of strange, fantastic things since I got here. Maybe there _is _more than just a reflection."

Alice gazed at herself in the glass, looking at the reflection over and under, trying to find something different. Taking her hand away, she moved it once more towards the glass, with her pointer finger extended out.

And when she touched her finger to the mirror, the glass moved with it, stretching inward like a sheet of thin rubber!

Alice took her hand away, surprised at what she had seen. "Oh," she yelped, pressing her hand further inside the glass.

The further that Alice pressed her hand into the mirror, the tighter the glass became, until finally, her fingers broke through! But it didn't break. It simply pressed around her while Alice moved her arm, and then her whole body into the mirror.

"Where are you going?" Peaseblossom asked Alice. But her question came too late, as Alice had already stepped through the mirror.

"Gods know what is through yonder mirror," the fairy said, looking worriedly, and yet curiously, into the mirror. "Mayhap 'tis a shortcut."

Richard looked lopsidedly into the mirror. He hadn't read _Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There _before, and so he didn't know what lay beyond it. One thing was for sure though: it didn't bring much logic or direction in his search.

But Peaseblossom was already pushing through the glass.


	13. Unexpected Visitors

_**Chapter 13**_

No matter what sorts of things Chloe did by herself in the tower, nothing seemed to peak her growing emotion at what had happened between her, Carrie, and the Count. She was angry enough as it was, and thus, for hours after the encounter, she had a hard time forgetting Dracula's face, as well as Carrie's.

It put a terrible heaviness upon Chloe that was extremely hard to deal with. Dracula had done perhaps the very worst of his cruel acts yet, and that was stealing her chance of making a friend within this horrible place. It took enormous amounts of solid willpower to not tell herself that she hated Carrie too, although it didn't seem like she had even tried to stand up to Dracula.

Still, every time Chloe glanced through the window in Carrie's tower, the tears and butterflies couldn't help but come. They would be just millimeters from spilling out, before Chloe quickly shoved the curtains back into place, and ducked back into her own confinement. Of course, that wasn't too comforting either, but she didn't see what other alternative she had. If Dracula caught her outside the tower, there would be the devil to pay. And despite the great magnitude of her powers, not even she could deal with that. Not ever.

Chloe was lonely, but her only real friend was her imagination. To pass large amounts of time, she often entertained herself by imagining scenes from movies she had seen and then played around with them using color, light, and sound. The results were often satisfactory, but if she really got herself to laugh from the bottom of her stomach, then she would feel as happy as if she were spending time with Richard or in a favorite book. Moments and memories like that brought a kind of warmth to her that was becoming quite rare the more days she spent in the tower.

At first, Chloe had counted the days she was a prisoner. But at this point in time, counting the days didn't hold too much meaning anymore. She thought of it like a school year, where at first, you were counting the days in which you were involved in it, but as routine became routine and things took you away, then there was no point. But this time, it held a much deeper kind of emotion to it, because she was alone without anything except her imagination. Chloe was perfectly fine with that at first, but she needed someone that she could talk to. And she feared she would go mad if she went too much longer without company.

Most often, Chloe would simply lie on her bed, with the curtains drawn, and several lit candles surrounded her for serenity. She would close her eyes and imagine the afternoons in the library she had spent with Richard, talking about nothing but books and their own lives. She did her best to relive every laugh, every conversation, and every smile that was shown, because it was one of her only solaces in this grim world.

Chloe did this sort of thing on routine now, but mostly during the times when Dracula would fly by her window in his bat form, or when Carrie was peeking up at her. She didn't want to look too suspicious as to what she was actually brewing in her mind, aside from precious memories of old.

From the start of the day after the confrontation, Chloe had ultimately decided she was not going to be a helpless damsel for whatever time she spent here. As a Proverb, she thought it her duty to escape as soon as she could and somehow return to the rotunda, where she would most likely find the Pagemaster, and therefore, Richard. Just seeing her friend's face again was enough to temporarily boost Chloe's mental energy in dreaming up ways to escape without being seen.

Unfortunately, she soon discovered that the same red wizards that captured her in the rotunda were often moving about on the grounds. Dracula was always flitting around as a bat at night. And even Carrie, whose soft meekness never left her bloody acne-ridden face, was, at some point, watching Chloe.

She wasn't about to let that stop her- not at any rate. Chloe prided herself on her thinking under pressure. All the danger she had been through since entering the library had given her that ability, and as often as she could, Chloe intended to think of how to escape her predicament, with the least amount of scars as was possible.

One day, Chloe was especially stuck in her task of bringing a good plan to life. Her mind was far off, and so immersed in the task at hand that her eyes were actually glazed over, like in a trance. They were gazing away into the woods, and so entranced, they didn't notice a ladder being propped up against the tower.

Or, that there were two men climbing the ladder towards the window. One of them had a scraggly and very pale face, wearing a long coat of musty black-grey, with dark, gleaming eyes that were sunk deep in his head. And the other was extremely thin, with his greasy hair hanging over his eyes, sparkling with an untamable madness.

"Missy?"

Chloe let out a yelp, stumbling back from the window and falling on her behind on the floor. The two men just entered through the tower window casually, kicking aside the empty bedside table that stood in their way.

"Whoa, wait!" Chloe said, getting back to her feet. "What are you two doing in here? How did you…?"

"Your silence would be most pleasing, missy," the tall man in the long coat said. "Our order of business comes from the respectable Count Dracula, as well as our own. We've been looking to visit you in your quarters for quite some time, you see; me, and my coworker, Mr. Renfield."

The thin man with the wide, mad eyes peeked at Chloe, smiling grimly at her. She shuddered, slightly repulsed at seeing these two villains here.

"Why, Miss Chloe," Renfield said, creeping towards her with his scraggly hand reaching out its trembling fingers. "My master tells me so much about you. And now, in the flesh, here…here you stand…before me! What an honor…"

"Stop it!" Chloe commanded harshly.

"He told me you would be feisty," Renfield continued, keeping his gleaming eyes on her. "He also said that you were as pretty as the angels from heaven. He's wrong. He's very wrong. If God himself had a maiden, she would have your face, your hair"- he reached and took a bunch of her strawberry locks in his shaking hand –"such beauty can surpass…"

Chloe wriggled her hair out of Renfield's reach, taking an extra step back to show that she meant what she did. In person, Renfield was even more repulsive and disgusting than she pictured.

Renfield's shoulders shook when suddenly, the tall man grabbed him and pulled him away from Chloe, shoving him into the canopy on the bed. He turned and gave a nasty glare at the madman before glancing at Chloe, a sly and sort of charming smile on his face.

"Do pardon my good coworker here, he has problems with being around pretty women," he said, his eyes almost disappearing into his skull with his deep frown. "In fact, I'm almost certain that it would be dangerous to even be within a millimeter of him."

Chloe looked on at the man, half in fright and half with the same repulsion she felt for Renfield. She was very still, not going anywhere from her spot.

"Evidently, you do not know me," the man said.

"Yes, I might," Chloe whispered. "Though, I will say that I'm afraid to admit it."

"Then, by all means, make the suggestion to it," the man prodded. "I don't always pride myself on learning the intellectual capabilities of women, but yours seem to be particularly enticing."

Chloe looked the man over, breaking down every individual detail to be sure she was correct in her assumption. She hadn't expected to come across another villain of his kind here, but he was just as extraordinary as Dracula himself.

"You're Professor James Moriarty," she finally replied.

"Bravo, a woman of your mental facilities is indeed a pleasure to meet," the professor said with a tip of his old top hat.

Chloe nodded, rolling her eyes in the process. These two were the last people she wanted to see in her condition. Perhaps if she summoned up enough of her power, she could blast them right out the window like she did to the Count. That sort of thing sounded all too sweet right about now.

"Now you answer to me," she said instead. "What kind of business do you have with Dracula?"

"Nothing of the serious sort," Moriarty answered. "Seeing that the poor man's affliction is great repulsion of the sun and the daylight, he sent Renfield and me to merely see that you are right at home here. He tells me it's not often he has such an honored guest."

"Honored?" Chloe nearly spit on the word after it left her mouth. "He calls _honoring_ a guest locking her up in a high tower without any decent company. _Quite_ the _host_, I say." She crossed her arms and looked snidely at the professor.

"You're very lucky," Renfield piped up. "The master wishes to take you as something very, very special after you help us."

"Take me? What do you mean?" Chloe wanted to know, a growing horror coming up through her throat.

"You stupid, crocodile-mouthed imbecile!" Moriarty growled, "Dracula himself was supposed to say such a thing."

"For crying out loud, what are you talking about?" Chloe nearly shouted at them.

Moriarty glared once more at Renfield, and with a frustrated sigh, bowed his head, holding his hat close as if in mourning. He stepped closer to the waiting Chloe. "The Count was meant to say this, dear girl. Once your powers have enabled us to conquer the Pagemaster's kingdom, then you and the Count will have quite the important engagement to go through with. And I say this in the literal sense of the word because…that is what the Count shall ask of you."

Chloe ran the words over and over in her head, seeing if she heard him right. An important engagement, after the war was over? What on earth could that mean?

"Oh yes, a white dress shall look most _ravishing _on someone like you, sweet little girl," Renfield said, chuckling in choppy, separate breaths at Chloe's face.

Suddenly, it clicked.

"White dress, engagement…" Chloe choked on the words while she said them. "No! You don't mean it!"

"The Count's intentions come from the bottom of his dead heart," Moriarty said. "He'll take no one else as his companion, or as his helper. But even with my superior intellect, and your massive imagination, there is no way out for you."

"What makes you say that?" Chloe said, putting on a large, questioning sneer, with her fists on her hips.

Moriarty gave Chloe a grim frown, his eyebrows seeming to sink down over his eyes. "Unfortunately, little girl, it's not my duty to save you from mortal danger. And certainly, I don't intend on abandoning my post as one of the minds behind this war for even a Proverb. The Prince would have been much better living here in his world, were it not for the foul-soul Englishmen who took his life."

Chloe stomped up to the professor, looking him square in his sag-eyes. "He was _old_!" she cried, throwing her angry hands in the air. "These things happen! Nobody killed him, either, and, if you'd really known him, you'd know that he was the best, kindest grandfather- prince- that this world and the next will ever know. He loved living in my world, and he chose to die there when he got old enough!"

"You truly are a delusional little pet of a girl," the professor sneered, bending down over Chloe so that she was bending her back in a slight arch. "Really, it's all that you and your comrades do. They boast and whine that their talents are above those who seek the greatest of what there is to seek. Like myself. Mathematics, they say, is something promising to teach to nincompoops like one Sherlock Holmes, but I? I put my mind to use to become the supreme criminal brain that every Londoner fears."

"You don't scare me at all," Chloe stated bravely, not taking her eyes off of him.

"Perhaps not in this moment," Moriarty said, "but when you should find yourself lying on the doorstep of some poor Londoner's flat while your friends are under slaughter of myself or the Count, you'll surely change your mind. Even a misled child like you would know it foolish to defy him."

"I'll twist what you said," Chloe said. "It's foolish of him to come up against me. I've badly hurt him before, and I'm warning you; I'll _surely _do the very same to _you _unless you climb back out on that ladder."

Moriarty glanced back at Renfield, and then back to Chloe, the sinister sneer returning to haunt his already-sunken features. There was something in his look that showed his understanding, but also a twisted train of thought.

"If you wish it so," he said, gesturing for Renfield to follow, and then heading for the window. "But be warned. You may have the imagination, but we are still several steps ahead. You might also believe the conditions of your tower are safe, but, you escape, we will know. And, perhaps if you do, the chances of mercy being shown to you are as likely as Holmes parading around Baker Street with my innards in a wooden box. Prepare to join our side should you not comply in the slightest." With a sly tip of his hat, he disappeared out the window.

Renfield followed close behind, glancing over his shoulder with such a wide gleam in his eyes above a maniacal smile, that Chloe sucked in a breath seeing such madness.

"One way or another," he said, climbing out. "One way or another, the master will have you. And the lives of your friends. Just you wait."


	14. Jaws that Bite, Claws that Catch

_**Chapter 14**_

If there was anything weird in the world of books, it was feeling a rubbery mirror against one's weary arms. Richard shivered while he followed Peaseblossom through the transforming glass, feeling as though he was passing through an ice-cold sheet of slick rubber, but at the same time, there were bugs skittering up and down on him while the glass pulsed around him.

Finally, with one leap off the mantel, Richard jumped down and away from the mirror. He still felt the bug-like skittering on his skin even after pushing through, and found that he was rubbing his arms uncomfortably. But Alice and Peaseblossom were doing no such thing.

"Curious," Alice murmured, stealing one more glance at the mirror, and then to the surroundings about them. Richard followed the little girl's glance, and blinked twice in recognizing what was so curious.

The room was practically mirrored on the other side to which they had stepped. Everything looked precisely the same, except it was like how it appeared in the mirror- reversed.

Richard and Alice both were somewhat fascinated by where the mysterious looking glass had taken them. Peaseblossom, however, sulked just a little, still floating next to the mirror. "'Twas quite the saddening disappointment, my lord," she said, her voice having suddenly turned sour. "I had been so hoping upon a portal to the fairy kingdom."

Richard nodded in agreement, looking into the mirror as well. "But, you know, it's not like we can't go back. The mirror's still there, so all we have to do is say bye to Alice and just continue on our way."

Peaseblossom peered at her reflection in the glass, making more strange yet comic moves at herself in fascination. "Well, I suppose, if it shall be that simple." The little fairy was a tad hesitant at saying farewell to Alice, but she was finally able to leap off of the mantel and towards the girl. In her sudden haste, however, Peaseblossom's tiny feet somehow managed to shove a huge black book off the mantel, which tumbled to the floor with a loud _bump!_

Alice leapt a foot in the air when she heard the bump, leaping backwards into a huge armchair behind her. She yelped softly, her eyes widening, both at the shock of falling into the chair, and seeing the big book on the floor. Her surprise seemed great enough that she didn't even move, leaving Richard to bend down and pick up the book. His one hand strained to pick up the book, seeing as it was so massive. It was almost twice the size of a dictionary, the cover almost three times as thick as usual.

Richard peered thoughtfully at the dark cover, turning it over in his hands before he finally decided to open the cover.

"What's in there?" Alice asked, pointing curiously at the book.

Richard shrugged an answer, but he quickly turned the book over to Alice when he opened the first few pages, and then to one page entitled, "_Jabberwocky"_. The text was written in mirrored form, so Richard had to hold it up to the mirror to read it. Alice followed him, standing on her tiptoes to see better.

"'Jabberwocky'?" Alice looked between Richard and the mysterious name, as if searching for an answer to her pondering on her new friend's face.

"I think I've heard about that before," Richard said. "It sounds a little like Lewis Carroll to me."

"Lewis Carroll?" Now Alice was really confused.

"Never mind," Richard said, not feeling in the least like explaining a kooky-headed author to a level-headed girl like Alice. He shook his head, and turned the page to the poem following the title, with Peaseblossom fluttering over his shoulder. Together, at different levels of voice, he and Alice read aloud the first verses,

"'_Twas brillig, and the slithy toves_

_Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;_

_All mimsy were the borogoves,_

_And the mome raths outgrabe._

_Beware the Jabberwock, my son!_

_The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!_

_Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun_

_The frumious Bandersnatch!"_

Richard's low voice continued until the end of the nonsensical poem, but Alice stopped right after the second verse.

"I don't understand this," she stated, putting her palm down on the words she'd already read. "It's frightening, and I'd really like it if you would stop reading." She looked at Richard with alarm in her eyes, and her mouth tensed into a panicked frown.

Richard had become so engrossed in the strange, stirring words of the poem that he didn't listen at first, until Peaseblossom blew some dust into his face. The pink cloud settled on Richard's nose before he finally stopped to brush it from his face, following the annoying dust with a short sneeze that fluttered the page. Alice briefly covered herself so as not to directly catch the sneeze, but she kindly offered Richard her handkerchief to relieve himself of another blow. He declined the offer by rubbing his nose gently, and giving Peaseblossom an annoyed scowl.

"Thank you," Alice said, at Richard's silence at the poem's end.

Richard nodded quickly to acknowledge Alice's thanks, but turned his attention back to the words on the page. He never remembered reading anything so abstract, and yet so intriguing. But at the same time, he was tensing. In all the marvelous and oddball things he'd come across in his journeys, he never forgot the power that any book held in this world. And he was getting the feeling that perhaps, opening the book wasn't such a good idea. Books were harmless, but their content held magnificent influence, especially when_ he_- a Proverb- opened them.

"Oh, shoot!" Richard muttered.

Before Alice or Peaseblossom could react, something massive and black as a nighttime ocean screamed out of the pages. A mighty roar escaped into the air, accompanied by the un-enveloping of a great pair of smoky wings, large and scaly as a dragon's. A head as big as a shopping window popped from the page, rearing up on its long neck to let out another screechy roar. Two dangerously sharp claws the size of the head clenched at the edges of the book, and Alice leapt away from the mantel, and Richard yelled, dropping the book to the floor.

Richard cringed, instantly regretting having noticed the book, much more in reading it aloud. Alice backed into the corner, right alongside the fireplace with the mirror on top, shielding herself with her arms. Peaseblossom followed her, trying to comfort the frightened girl, but Alice's screaming didn't help to lower the tension. Richard swiped the book just as the creature appeared entirely out of the yellowing pages, and ran to his friends.

"The magnitude of thy power shows itself!" Peaseblossom squeaked. "Make haste, my lord!" She turned, and buried her tiny face into Alice's sleeve, and Alice held the little fairy close to her, tears threatening to come with her abundant fear.

Richard's heart was screaming at him to conjure something to combat the newly awakened Jabberwocky. The first thing he thought to do, however, was unsheathe his sword, which he lunged at the monster. The Jabberwocky advanced rapidly upon the group, its enormous tail and flapping wings knocking over furniture and breaking glass figurines while it moved to swallow Richard. Its wide, yellow eyes bore into Richard, seeming to reach into him and tug on his insides, forcing more fright and tension into him like deathly-tasting poison.

When the Jabberwocky lunged with its snapping jaws at him, Richard dove out the way, and quickly regained himself for an attack. But the monster was just as quick. It swung its head and bit down into the floor, missing Richard by a needle's width of an inch.

"Richard!" Alice called out. "Please, hurry!"

At hearing the cry, Richard swiftly prepared himself, brandishing the sword heftily in his hand. And when the Jabberwocky moved its toothy mouth his way, he swung the blade at the beast's face as hard as he could.

It was as though there was a great armor built up around the monster's scaly body, because there was naught but a foot-wide scratch on it. It surprised Richard. A swing like that should have cut the Jabberwocky completely open. But to no avail at all!

In just a bit of a second, a lightning-like memory flashed into Richard's mind, by looking impulsively into the bright yellow eyes of the Jabberwocky. In that second, he knew how he could possibly allow escape for his friends back through the mirror. His heart swelled in his inner triumph, and so, he firmly held his sword handle again and opened his mouth to speak.

"_The Jabberwocky poem book of 'Through the Looking Glass'! The vorpal sword!"_

While Richard shouted the words, he swung his other arm like a party animal in a bowling alley, and the black book skid across the floor, stopping at Alice's feet. She yelped when she saw it, but she didn't pick it up again.

The Jabberwocky turned around to follow the sliding book, completely turning its head away from Richard, to Alice and Peaseblossom. Richard used this opportunity to observe the change in his own sword. Within the blink of an eye, it had transformed into a silver-handled weapon, with a point so sharp, it looked strong enough to cut through stone! While taking no more time to observe the majesty of the sword, Richard reared up his arm, and just as the Jabberwocky turned back around to finish its prey, the tip of his blade seared across the beast's wide forehead, drawing a thick line of thick fluid from the scales.

While the Jabberwocky nearly ceased all movement to recover, Richard dashed under the monster's huge belly and joined his friends on the other side. Without a moment's hesitation, he took Alice's tiny hand in his and pulled her along towards the mirror, now located close to the side of the writhing Jabberwocky. Sheathing his sword, Richard pointed up to the mirror.

"Go, hurry, Alice!" he said. I'll meet you and Peaseblossom on the other side of the mirror."

Alice nodded her head, and climbed on top of a chair she managed to drag towards the fireplace. Hoisting herself onto the mantel, she shoved through the mirror, and Richard, glancing quickly back at the Jabberwocky, followed her through, just before the recovering beast could snatch him back with its demonic talons.

Richard had pushed through the mirror so rapidly, that instead of stepping onto the mantel, he stepped into thin air and tumbled from the transformed glass and onto the floor. His cheek hit the carpet, and there came a blow to his stomach that almost made him sick, but he forcefully swallowed it back while he got his footing again.

"Will you be all right?" Alice asked sweetly, gently touching Richard's arms.

"Yeah, I will," he answered, grinning at her.

"Thank you very much," Alice said, "for helping us. That was really, truly brave."

"Well, no problem," Richard said, shrugging sheepishly. "All in a day's work, I guess." He glanced behind him at the mirror, where their reflections were clear as day. "Just one problem now. The Jabberwocky is still in there, on the other side. It's not like it can go back in the book by itself and we can forget about it."

"Which is why I happily imagine the idea that little Alice accompanies us to King Oberon," Peaseblossom said enthusiastically. "It is not safe to be here whilst that creature is lurking, even if it is on the other end of the looking glass."

"Can I?" Alice asked, half surprised and half excited.

Richard looked down at Alice's curious and hopeful expression. She was such a small girl, and could get into such big trouble if she didn't have someone to protect her from monsters like the Jabberwocky. He shook his head, remembering his stupidity in bringing the Jabberwocky out of the book. Perhaps if he hadn't done that, Alice would be perfectly all right staying here in her own story. But if the Jabberwocky ever managed to squeeze through the mirror, then Alice was in grave danger. Then again, what parts of the literary world were _not _in grave danger during these times, particularly now when a new villain had accidentally been brought out?

He answered by reaching out his hand to Alice. She drew her hands back in realizing Richard's intentions, but she quickly put her hand in Richard's, agreeing to join her new friends on their perilous journey to find a King Oberon.

"Shan't we go now?" Alice asked, looking up reassuringly at Richard, almost as though he was an endearing father taking her to the park.

Richard grinned momentarily at her.

"Rrrraaaahhhhrrrrr!"

All three friends jumped when the Jabberwocky's screechy roar cut through the air, and for a moment, its reflection seemed to materialize in the mirror, its wings flapping swiftly. And underneath the roar, two high-pitched squeals sounded from upstairs.

"Oh, Kitty! Snowdrop!" Alice said, looking desperately up and around the room. "The poor dears have run off. What are they to do with that thing on the other side of the looking glass?"

Richard felt sympathy for Alice, but he didn't feel it would be good for this journey if they had two rambunctious kittens coming along. He had a feeling that they could take care of themselves; after all, they were cats. Why else would so many people like to keep them as pets?

And besides, the Jabberwocky might catch up soon. They would have to get away while they could.

"They'll be okay," Richard said sympathetically, "but we have to get out of here!"

"Ay, come, make haste!" Peaseblossom urged, pulling on Alice's skirt.

"But, the little dears!" Alice protested.

"I'm sorry, but we have to go!" Richard gently tugged on Alice's hand. "They're cats- they can take care of themselves for a long time!"

The Jabberwocky's roar came through the house again, and the group scurried through the front door, running out into the winter air, keeping the swift pace until they were at least two blocks away from the house. Even then they could still hear snippets of the Jabberwocky's cry.

"I'm sorry, Alice," Richard said.

Alice didn't answer him. She already had her arms around herself, shivering slightly. Even when they were that far from Alice's wintry setting, the snow still fell. And frankly, it had gotten much colder since then, for some strange reason.

"It's so cold out here," Alice remarked, her teeth chattering loudly.

"This should do it," Richard said, pointing his finger at Alice, saying "_'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. The White Witch's fur cloak!"_

In an instant, Alice was wrapped in an elaborate cloak of white and grey furs, decorated with silks and a clasp of silver cord. She immediately stopped shivering, and a relieved sigh escaped her throat.

"Thank you," Alice said, smiling sincerely at Richard.

Richard grinned again, wrapping his cape around him. "But, I don't see how we're going to get anywhere in this weather."

"Mayhap we ought to make shelter," Peaseblossom suggested, wrapping herself in the outer folds of Alice's cloak.

"I don't know what I can come up with," Richard said helplessly, as his ears picked up the sounds of flapping wings overhead, while a shadow fell over the snow.


	15. Firedrake

_**Chapter 15**_

"Hello?"

With a collective gasp, Richard, Alice, and Peaseblossom shot their gazes upward, and all three looked into the blurry shadow of a creature flying not too high above them. It had the same scaly wings as the Jabberwocky, but its voice calling down to them was actually like that of a young man yelling through the air.

Slowly, the creature began to slant its wings to the ground, and it came to a landing right next to Richard, whose stunned expression kept him from greeting this new wild thing.

"It's a dragon," he said to himself.

The dragon nodded its head, having heard the whisper. "Indeed, that I am," it said. "I was flying along, on my way to find the Rim of Heaven, and so I've happened to come across the lot of you. If I'm not mistaken, you two must be quite powerful wizards." He pointed with his eyes at Richard and Alice.

"What- who do I have the honor of addressing," Alice asked, correcting herself so as not to offend the dragon, "so unexpectedly?"

"My name is Firedrake," the dragon answered, gesturing modestly with his claw to his shiny, silver scales. "And, who are you all? I've been flying for days, and I haven't seen any humans wandering about, especially in these kinds of days when a war is boiling up."

"We're in search of a brave warrior lady," Peaseblossom answered, flying up to Firedrake's nose. "But in order to locate said woman, we must make rapid time to the fairy kingdom, from which I was born. But, I fear that we shall not make it there so fast, when numerous opposing forces are lurking everywhere we come to. And this weather is certainly no help to us, either!" Peaseblossom rubbed her arms very fast to emphasize her cold state, and afterwards, she even let loose a little sneeze that caused a cloud of fairy dust to fly away with the winter wind.

"Poor little fairy," Firedrake said sympathetically. "Well, then, by all means, why don't you ask your wizard masters to conjure up a coat for you? If they can make such grand things from thin air, surely you know they'll do the same for a creature like you."

"Um, excuse me, um, Firedrake," Richard said, stepping up to the dragon, despite his slight tentativeness at being in the presence of a dragon. "We're not exactly wizards."

"Well, I'm not," Alice added, rushing up to Richard's side. "But my friend, Richard, can make magic happen. He made us these coats just by requesting them from…from…well, I suppose I don't know exactly _what_ he did."

"I brought them out of a book," Richard explained quickly.

Firedrake was impressed, if he only slightly showed it. "Is that all?" he wanted to know. "You have any other talents besides bringing things from books?"

"Naught but that," Peaseblossom said. "It also just so happens that Richard is the Pagemaster's very own Proverb of the Books!"

Firedrake's expression widened so greatly, every one of his dragon teeth showed themselves. He respectfully lowered his head, and folded in his wings. "Oh, well then, pardon me," he said. "If I'd known I was speaking to a Proverb, I would have addressed you much more formally. It's wonderful to meet you."

Richard nodded. These formal pleasantries were starting to get on his nerves. "All right, thanks, Firedrake," he said to eagerly end the formalities. "Now, I guess what we want to know is, well…if you would be nice enough to take us to the fairy kingdom Peaseblossom was talking about. We need to find my friend as soon as we can, especially before the war heats up even more."

Firedrake's golden-brown eyes flashed gently as he looked between the members of the trio he just met. Finding the Rim of Heaven- the place where all dragons could live in peace and away from treacherous humans- was most important to him, as it was to every dragon from _Dragon Rider_. But like any other human or creature of this world, it was a second dream to meet one of the Proverbs. Since the beginning of written literature, their identities were always a secret for everyone, and not even the Pagemaster himself had ever seemed sure of who they were. Firedrake had even started to doubt the stories of the Proverbs, even though their identities and stories were inscribed in the lore of this world. And now here was one, in the flesh! Doubt still lingered however, until he looked into the hopeful, pleading blue eyes of the Proverb standing at his cheek.

"I had hoped I would be off to the Rim of Heaven soon enough," Firedrake murmured. "But, now, I find myself wishing to assist a noble person such as you, Proverb. I don't think it right for a dragon to leave behind a person with power inside of them. And with this war about to happen, and a Proverb unprotected, it's all the more reason for you to climb aboard."

"And are thou willing to accompany us until the lady Chloe's rescue is at hand?" Peaseblossom asked, putting on her sweetest face.

"It is not too often I do this," Firedrake replied. "A boy like you should not be without his lady in the midst of an enmity like this."

"I would like to see her again," Richard agreed.

"Then you shall- faster than you hope to," Firedrake said. "Come on. I'll start our journey from right here."

Peaseblossom smiled all the way up to her ears, and she fluttered up to the dragon to give him a kiss on the nose. "Thou hast the kindest heart of any dragon," she said. "I shall make for thee a crown of roses once I can."

Firedrake watched Peaseblossom fly over his head, where she took her place in the air next to Richard and Alice, who sat behind each other single file. They huddled into their coats while another freezing wind whipped at their backs.

"Everyone ready?" Firedrake asked, while he spread his wings out like an airplane.

Richard tucked himself into his coat even further, and after getting an answer from Alice and Peaseblossom, nodded his head at the dragon.

"Hold on!"

Firedrake immediately flapped his wings and took to the blank sky, stirring several huge clouds of snowy dust in his wake. He blew a puff of air from his lungs, and cleared the snow from his path while he flew forward into the clouds above.

In the rush of wind that came during the takeoff, both Richard and Alice yelped as they grabbed hold of Firedrake's scales on his back. Peaseblossom even zipped inside Alice's hood, tucking herself within the immense folds like a sleeping bag. Some fairy dust flew off of her while Firedrake found a comfortable altitude in the sky.

When Firedrake slowed down a little, Richard and Alice relaxed their grip, taking a moment to readjust their coats from takeoff. The wind was just as strong as it was on the ground, but at least the snow was always coming at them from behind.

Peaseblossom soon found it quite uncomfortable in Alice's hood with the wind penetrating to her sensitive body, so she wriggled out and flew like a lightning bolt in front of Richard, where she settled into his lap. Gently, he took some of the folds of his coat and wrapped it around her.

Behind him, Richard heard Alice breathe heavily, her eyes looking around on either side of her, where Firedrake's wings flapped majestically.

"How remarkable!" she exclaimed softly. "Dragons are such wonderful things. It's not a wonder people love them so much."

Richard nodded, chuckling a little to himself. "Yeah. The last time I met a dragon, it almost tried to eat me. Well, it did!"

Alice and Peaseblossom both shot wide-eyed looks at Richard.

"You were eaten _alive _by a real dragon?" Alice said, putting her hands on her cheeks in shock. "How ever did you survive it?"

"I opened up a book, and came out on a beanstalk," Richard explained. "I'm not sure whether it was my powers or just the book that got me out, but yep, here I am."

"'Tis the mark of a true epic hero," Peaseblossom beamed. "I do admire thee."

Alice sighed, leaning down with her cheeks in her palms on Firedrake's back. "You're incredible, Richard," she said. "You've done so much. And now I suppose you can get your girl friend back and lead this war to the end!"

"Thanks," Richard said. He was about to turn away, but then looked back at Alice with an alarmed expression. "You won't ask to fight in this war, will you?"

"Good heavens, no!" Alice said, shaking her head. "I'm just a little girl. And little girls don't fight in wars. But I do know lots and lots of war heroes, and they are such marvelous people. My sister seems to fancy them sometimes, and I love them just the same."

"Well, just hope you can have another one who will actually survive," Richard said. "I've known about this for a long time, but I'm still not very sure about it."

"Perhaps you shall," Alice said, stretching her arms and rubbing her eyes. "Once you've slept on it somewhat. I know I will do that right now." She gathered some extra folds of her coat and bundled them up under her head, lying with the coat covering her like a blanket.

"I'll wake you up when we get there." Richard readjusted Alice's coat, and looked ahead into Firedrake's path of flight, gently massaging Alice's shoulder affectionately in the meantime.

"Sweet child," Peaseblossom mused, "and oh so intelligent. I'm glad she's with us."

"Yeah," Richard agreed. "I just feel bad that I was stupid enough to bring the Jabberwocky out. Maybe then, Alice could still be at home with her cats. I think it's really dangerous for her to be out here when she could get in trouble. I mean, I already have Chloe, you, now Alice and Firedrake to worry about if something's might happen. And I don't want to be the one responsible for injuries, or even death." The thought was most unfathomable to him.

"I have faith Firedrake shall get us close enough to the fairy kingdom," Peaseblossom said gently, hugging her arms around Richard's torso. "I may be only a wee fairy, but evil can still underestimate a fairy's magic. For good magic shall always conquer that of wicked. And thus, the love you hold for your lady shall also."

Richard rolled his eyes, lying on his side. He didn't like the feeling he got when people assumed Chloe was like his true love, or something of the sort. He honestly liked her, but he wasn't so sure about girlfriend material. That kind of feeling had always been so strange and foreign to him, especially for someone who'd always been rejected by girls in his childhood. And besides, what kind of relationship was that if no one could accept it? If something were to happen during inevitable battle?

Curling up into his cloak next to Peaseblossom, Richard shut his eyes and tried to think of a black space that did not include any of his silly worries, while he drifted off to sleep.


	16. At Last

_**Chapter 16**_

With every moment that Richard and his friends were flying through the sky, he grew more and more amazed. He had seen so many movies and read of lots of scenes where people flew on top of dragons. It was cool before, in imagining it unfold, but riding on Firedrake was ten times more incredible than flying on an airplane. Or anything else of the sort- that much was certain. For when could you feel the wind on your face so strongly, or witness what you were flying over within such a tangible distance? Not a single second was boring when he was flying.

Alice was enjoying herself as well. While not quite as outwardly enthusiastic as Richard, she liked to lie on her back and watch the sky above them, pointing out the unique-looking clouds shifting along with Firedrake's flight.

"That looks like a dodo bird," she would say, pointing her finger above her. "And that one reminds me of a gryphon. I think it almost looks like you, Firedrake!"

When she got tired of that, she sat upright with one leg on either side of Firedrake's body and scout out the marvelous spaces below them. Now that they had flown out of her story, the land was turning green and lush again. The sky was clear, so there was no more need for their coats. Richard had discarded them when Firedrake first stopped to rest, so they could enjoy the spring-like weather inside the puffy clouds.

Firedrake even got some enjoyment out of flying through the clear air, a grin covering his face while he searched for a land of sparkling shrubbery and beauty, for that was how Peaseblossom had described the fairy kingdom.

But the springy air didn't always bring happy feeling to some members of the group.

"I've just received a vision," Peaseblossom said one afternoon, about three or four days into their journey through the sky. "The King and his queen have not quite managed to settle their quarrel, but it seems to be growing worse by the ungodly hour."

"Does he know that we are coming?" Firedrake wondered aloud.

"No, not of late," Peaseblossom answered. "But I do fear it shall be harder for us to cause a cease in his wrath. He and his wife fight so much over such petty matters, but 'tis not up to me to stop them. They follow their own unpaved roads, and the other fairies and I are but servants to them."

"You will be able to help us get in, won't you?" Alice asked, hoping for reassurance.

"Ay, certainly," the fairy said, "but it might be difficult. 'Tis nasty business dealing with Oberon, in particular when he is in a storm of emotion. In fact, 'tis raining over the fairy kingdom and many a fairy are hiding from the king."

Richard didn't say anything. He was nervous about meeting Oberon from the beginning, but with Peaseblossom's new vision, it only made him terrified. Oberon sounded like the king who would pull a Queen of Hearts and execute people who annoyed him. And what with a human like him coming unexpectedly into his kingdom to ask a simple question, well, he wasn't sure how well that would go over. His best hope was that, sooner or later, he would learn where Chloe was being held captive.

Until…

"Yonder!" Peaseblossom shouted, flying in front of Firedrake and pointing excitedly at a dark spot on the green earth. A cloud was hovering over it, flashing wildly with bolts of lightning, with sheets of grey haze washing over the land. Beneath it, was a sparkling spot of shrubbery and trees.

Richard looked over Firedrake's head, followed by Alice, and they all looked at the strange new place drawing closer.

Peaseblossom gasped. "It's the…"

"…fairy kingdom," Richard finished, a terrified and excited lump rising in his dry throat. "This is it, Chloe! I'm coming."


	17. Renfield's Final Visit

_**Chapter 17**_

The routine- the same, blasted routine, after days and days of doing it- was dancing on one of Chloe's last nerves.

Each day since the visit from Moriarty and Renfield, Chloe put her imagination to good use, trying to imagine herself into Carrie's mind. Carrie, like Chloe, repeated herself every day. She sat at her vanity, staring at her sad, sorry face in the mirror, and, if Chloe wasn't looking too hard, watched her master's prisoner in the tower above her.

But Chloe was doing something different. She watched Carrie, but not so much with contempt, like the telekinetic girl did to her. She watched in stone-hard concentration, attempting to imagine her thoughts into the mind opposite hers. It wasn't supposed to be difficult, and it wasn't at first. But eventually, Carrie looked up at Chloe, and, fixing her with another flex of her powerful mind, Chloe would be tossed from her mind like a bad cat onto a front doorstep.

Chloe's task was clear from the beginning. One way or another, she wanted to force the truth into Carrie- that the bloody prank she had undergone on her prom night, was nothing more than an immature joke, pulled off by even more childish novices. She forced it through her own imagination with all that she had, and multiple times, she almost got through to poor Carrie. But, having been molded so cruelly by that event and what had followed, no success came through.

To accomplish this, Chloe was willing to even try changing the course of the book, so that Carrie could have survived prom night- that is, by not staying onstage long enough to accept her crown as Prom Queen. And even if Carrie was ultimately humiliated, it also would have been good enough to escape her town, and start out fresh again.

But, no. Revenge had to be carried out, and from all that had happened to her, revenge was the _only _way.

And frankly, from what Chloe was learning, perhaps Carrie's telekinesis was stronger than Chloe's own magical imagination. For no matter how she struggled to beak the wall in Carrie's mind, it got much more strenuous every time. It took a long time before Chloe could convince herself that her plans were useless; it would take lots more than just breaking the telekinesis to get through to Carrie. But still, Chloe was starting to believe that not even psychiatric assistance with the world's best doctor could cure Carrie of her mental pessimism.

But worst of all, it seemed a possibility for Chloe to be developing a bit of the same attitude. Trying day in and day out for her to accomplish something so straining and impossible, it wore her thin at the end of each day. Particularly when Renfield or Moriarty would pay her a visit, to either "check up on her". She was never too angry or tightly wound, necessarily- she was just tired, like those days where she burned the midnight oil on homework, and would afterwards be dying to get to sleep while snugly tucked in bed. That feeling carried throughout her days, becoming groggier and groggier as time went on.

Not only that, but visits from Renfield were becoming as often as Chloe's failures at reaching Carrie's mind. And, quite surprisingly, Chloe actually began to wish she could slaughter the madman with the bow and arrows she imagined, or at least just slap some sense into him. Although she already knew such a tactic wouldn't work, it would still feel good. Very good.

On a dreary day, Chloe found herself once more slumped on the sill of her window. She felt so exhausted that she was falling asleep right there, and it was only just sunset. It was amazing how she was losing so much energy, but she hoped she wouldn't lose herself altogether while she was still here.

"Hello!"

Chloe sprang backwards when Renfield's head popped into her face. She even caught a nasty whiff of Renfield's scent; the man hadn't bathed perhaps since the day he was diagnosed a madman. Add that with the fact that he was even here, and it was enough to make an already-grouchy Chloe nauseous.

"Go away, Renfield" was Chloe's response to this intrusion.

"The Master does not wish for his lady to be sad," Renfield said, leaping over the sill and into the room. "He sends me here to see that you were still up and alive."

"And so I am," Chloe said, a little snidely. "Now get out! You know what will happen if you don't." Power flared through Chloe, and she reveled in the idea of using it.

"I tell him you get prettier every time I come here," Renfield said, starting to breathe lustily. "Truly, you'll find it much more fitting to be his maiden than the other Proverb."

Chloe took in a sharp breath, her power flaring stronger or a fraction of a second. "Any person would be a better match for me than _him_! He may look like a gentleman, but it's about time you all realized that inside, his heart stopped beating centuries ago. No beating heart, no such chance for me to go to him!"

"Your choosing him is important to your survival here," he stated, rushing up to Chloe to take her power-hot hands. "If you don't ever choose to comply with us, your time here could be limited."

"Then I'll just get out soon enough," Chloe said, taking her hands back to her side and out of Renfield's reach.

"Your days _here_ are numbered," Renfield clarified. "In this world, and on this earth."

These words clicked fast in Chloe's mind, but she couldn't believe them. "No," she said, shaking her head. "He wouldn't try to kill me. I'm too useful to get rid of."

"Master wouldn't harm you at his hands. He'll let you rot up here in this tower forever if it'll make you be his, and part of our side. He and I- we comprehend the power you have, and we shall do what we will to bring it out of you."

Something- she didn't know what- flashed through Chloe, and the magic in her hands flared hotly, while her angry arm swung through the air to meet Renfield's face. The force of her blow knocked him to the ground, and the relief at having done it surged with even greater force. About time too, for if Renfield visited her again, continuously repeating those exact words, perhaps she _would_ kill him! It would feel wonderful to do something for herself here!

Renfield glanced up at her with shock in his eyes, the mad glint having been left behind in the slap. He scrambled back up again, an immense pleading replacing the insanity.

"You must escape," he said anxiously, "while you can. The Master has the strength of the devil. But the professor- he's could be all the more lethal. His criminal mind is beyond even my capacity and the Master's combined. At the end of this nasty war, he plans to rid himself of your soul- in the bloodiest way he can."

Chloe gulped. She always read the stories of Moriarty's crimes, and of course she knew that he was a murderer. But, still, the idea of him coming after her after all this was extremely unthinkable. Dying at the hands of a literary villain was even more terrifying now than she imagined.

No.

She wouldn't go through with it. Somehow or other, she would escape. She was done with babysitting Carrie, and trying to get her mind on straight again. She was finished attempting to avoid the Count's inevitable visits, as well as Renfield's and Moriarty's. Escape and getting back to Richard was going to be, until she returned home, her goal. If anything tried to stop her, or even dared stand in her way, she would not hesitate to blast them, from now on!

"Fine then," Chloe said. "I'm getting out of here within the next few days. Whatever it takes to get out, I won't be afraid to do it. Not anymore!"

"You're a spirited woman," Renfield said admirably. "Do it before he comes."

"I…"

"Shush!" Renfield commanded sharply, putting his finger to his lips. He turned slowly around, his eyes seeming to scan every corner of the room.

Chloe couldn't understand why he was so tense right now, but she got it when she heard a gentle hushing of wind nearby.

In through the window, there came a mist, so thick that someone could cut it with a sword. It spread throughout the tower, and Renfield backed Chloe into the wall next to the dark fireplace protectively.

"It's him!" Renfield said breathlessly. "It…it…is _him_! He's coming!"

Chloe didn't know how to react all of a sudden. What could be said was that she was trembling in her shoes.

The Count materialized just inches from Renfield and Chloe. He had nothing to show, save for a neutral line his lips made. It looked safe, and yet it hid a glowering malice, just like what always boiled beneath his courtly demeanor.

"Renfield," he purred. "You have betrayed me."

"No, no Master!" Renfield pleaded, getting on his knees before Dracula. "I never meant to plague your lady with horrid thoughts of the future. I only did what you said."

"Indeed," Dracula said, "and then some. The lady now knows everything. And _you_ told her it all."

"I would do no such thing! You're the only one I want to give in to. I have worshipped you always, now and forever!"

The Count was still, before his hand was instantly at Renfield's throat! Renfield gasped a loud, hollow breath, his eyes turning wholly white.

"For you, Lady Chloe," Dracula said, with a sneer Chloe's way. She backed against the wall, going to the floor while Dracula carried Renfield at a savage height off the floor. The man was writhing and yelping, but he made no loud noises without any breath. He turned his head back to Chloe, and help was screaming out through that one expression, but Chloe was too petrified to move. She'd said she wasn't afraid of Dracula, but she didn't know what to do, watching Renfield being carried off to some unknown fate. She didn't know if Renfield was one to trust in his moment of sanity, but she did know that he wasn't in for forgiveness now.

The Count, however, did not go to the window, like Chloe thought he would. Instead, he walked to the wall beside it, halting there with Renfield still wriggling in his iron fist. Then he reared back his servant, and then smashed him into the wall with a sickening crack, while Renfield screamed!

Chloe covered her ears in hearing Renfield's cry. It was like he was calling out for help, and she was like some helpless, hopeless kid who didn't know the next step in what to do.

The Count pushed Renfield against the wall once, then twice, and finally four times, before quite instantly, a breathless gasp and an even louder snap shook the air. Chloe shot her gaze upwards, and slapped her hand to her mouth.

Dracula stood over Renfield, who didn't move whilst he lay in a growing pool of red. He shouted no more.

Dracula didn't move at first, but in a blink of an eye, Chloe was shocked at seeing him step up to her from across the room. She jumped up, and put her hands behind her back against the wall, now even more frightened.

In looking at her, Dracula raised his hand quickly, and Chloe looked away, shielding her face just in case. But the Count sighed and brought his hand back down to his side.

"The vermin spoke wrongly," he intoned. "I will not wait for you to change your mind forever. The time is upon us, and while the weary world now grows stronger in preparation of this great battle, so shall we."

Chloe shook her head, only allowing for her magic to churn inside of her silently.

"You shall be punished for this injustice to me," he said, his words boiling with angry contempt. "Professor Moriarty and I shall not ever take our eyes away from your tower until we are given the proper time to go to battle. Until then, you are to stay up here, and not to look outdoors! And if you dare open that window, this shall happen!"

He pointed to Chloe's feet, and a burning blaze shot up from the floor. Heat blasted into her shoes, and Chloe cried out, jumping off the floor to escape the fire. But wherever she jumped, the fire followed her, nipping at her toes and almost seeming to _eat _her skin!

Thinking on her burning feet, Chloe conjured a bucket of water, and she jumped inside.

The fire sizzled and boiled in the water, but her feet still burned in the invincible flames. A scream rose in her throat, and it escaped through her lips without much effort.

Dracula watched on, grinning both seductively and wickedly. But finally, he lifted his hand, and the fire hissed and burned out in the water. Chloe glanced down at her burned feet, and stepped out, singed but overall okay.

"Therefore, I should think you would be careful the next time you act upon selfish impulse," Dracula said, fixing his trademark glare on his lips. "Or the days you spend here actually could be numbered. I'll see to it that you'll be my companion, once you have come in useful."

"Never," Chloe managed to say, despite the lingering pain in her feet.

"Perhaps without my hapless assistant, Mr. Renfield, to help you, you'll think otherwise." The Count then turned on his heel and transformed into a bat, flapping noisily out into the night.

Chloe remained placid in her spot for a while. All she did was gape and stare at Renfield, in his horribly stained clothes, with his blood spilled all around him.

Inside, her emotions were a swirling twister. Having once hated Renfield, Chloe now couldn't help but feel just a mite sorry for the man. It felt like it was mostly her fault that this happened, because if she had just controlled her emotions, she wouldn't have literally snapped sanity back into him.

But then, if she hadn't, she wouldn't have known what Dracula and Moriarty were planning for her. It only gave her further motivation to escape much sooner from the tower, and somewhere in her mind, she was grateful to Renfield. It wasn't, after all, his fault in the end that he went mad. Dracula had merely possessed him over time, and forced him to do his bidding to the death.

Chloe stepped towards Renfield, looking him over with a heaviness forming in her stomach. Maybe at this point, it was Renfield's place to die, because he always said he would die to serve his master, as well as Chloe. And today, he did actually do her some good, in warning her of what was coming. That could possibly be the noblest thing any sane man would do for a girl in dire trouble.

"Thank you, Renfield," Chloe whispered, imagining an animated mop to clean up the blood blemishing the shiny wood. "I'm sorry." She paused before going on again. "But I guarantee you- one of these days, I'll get out, like you told me to. I won't wait around anymore doing nothing."

She looked at the newly locked windows, now chained in place by Dracula's magic. She couldn't look outside, but could still picture the sky, with the moon and the beaming stars.

"I'll get out of here," she said, "or die trying!"


End file.
